


How soon is now?

by Nemesissy



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: A slow burning descent into not-okay, Akira models for Yusuke, Akira will have a Palace closer to endgame, Akira's family is not great, Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Cameos from other Persona games, Child Abuse, Dreams and Nightmares, For any new readers, Gay Kurusu Akira, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, In this house we don't forget that Ryuji has chronic pain, M/M, Multiple Perspectives, Nothing gets explicit other than...violence?, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Assault, So much drama...but like....with a ton of fluff sprinkled in, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence, Yusuke stays at Leblanc, coffee dad is best dad, mental horror, not the focus though, the tags are accurate both to in-game events and to noncanon additions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:02:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 210,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17344904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemesissy/pseuds/Nemesissy
Summary: Currently:  Just finished Kaneshiro's Palace!÷÷÷Akira Kurusu moves to Tokyo crushed by more than one secret weight. There, he tries his best to carve out a new world for himself.  A new family. But no amount of ~the power of friendship~ can fully ease his burden, or erase his years-old guilt.Nightmares plague him, and the border between dream and reality grows dangerously thin when you're already spending your days in a world of cognition.Desperate to hold on to himself, he clings to the Persona created from his own spirit of rebellion. But a refusal to change is also a refusal to grow. Drowning, and pulled in a thousand directions, ~something else~ is groaning to life in the darkest corners of Akira's mind.Something cold, and raw, and wrong.Will he give himself over to a darkly tempting power out of a desire to save his friends while, in his own mind, preserving himself? Will the hands of those he's grown to love be strong enough to retrieve him from the darkness of his own heart?These answers and more, next time, on Dragon Bal--er--How soon is now!÷÷÷Yusuke shows up in chapter 16, for my shippy friends.Will be an Akira-has-a-palace fic.





	1. Attic Trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm adding this note here while in the middle of writing the 47th chapter of what is growing to be an *enormous* fic. If this is your first time reading, "Hello!", and if you're re-reading, "Welcome home!" 😊
> 
> This fic is a fluff-filled, fun gallivanting through friendship, growth, and some truly ridiculous moments. 
> 
> It is also a sometimes incredibly sad, trauma-ridden horror show. The tags are accurate, and I try to give a heads up in the summaries before a new form of awful is added, but be aware. The fluff and angst coexist, frequently in the same chapter, because I apparently specialise in emotional whiplash. (And also in gay feels.)
> 
> This is my first time writing a fic, and I'm beyond grateful for everyone who has followed along so far! I hope you'll continue to enjoy it as it progresses. 
> 
>  
> 
> Side note: I'll definitely be coming back to revamp these earlier chapters someday. They aren't bad, but I feel like I really got into setting my pace & style of writing somewhere in the teens, chapter-wise. So, starting from the beginning, prepare for chapters that grow wildly in length as you go on, haha.

A bell jingled cheerily behind him as the door to Le Blanc cafe swung firmly shut, sealing Akira Kurusu into what he hadn't truly realized was a decision until that point.  
  
_So, I'm here. I showed up. No turning back now._  
  
A middle-aged gentleman sauntered over to him casually, clearly in his element. He looked....professional? Normal?

 _Normal is good?_  
  
Hopefully, Akira inquired, "Are you Sakura-san?"  
  
The man's face closed just-perceptibly. Not enough to kill his service persona in front of the cafe's straggling number of customers, but enough that Akira's heart dropped.  
  
_Am I not good enough for normal?_  
  
"It's you, huh? So this is the kind of kid they decided to foist onto me."  
  
Akira felt himself beginning to flinch, but managed to hide it, barely _._

 _The kind of kid.._..

The man before him stared, unblinking, clearly awaiting some kind of response.  
  
_What am I supposed to say? "Please take care of me?" I can't...I don't know. What does he want from me?_  
  
"I promise to stay out of your way."  
  
The man frowned.  
  
_Still wrong_.  
  
Sternly, "You're not just going to hide away from your responsibilities here. I have a reputation at stake too, you know." Still staring. Still frowning. "Do you understand that?" Dark eyes narrowed.  
  
"Yes. Of course, Sakura-san."  
  
The frown collapsed into a sigh. "Well, you'd better. You're going to be here for a year, until your probation is complete. You went and got yourself arrested for interfering when a man was forcing himself on a woman, right? Assault?"  
  
_[[ The sensation of falling, a woman's shocked face, the smack of a head on concrete. "Damn brat! I'll sue!" ]]_

 _No, no, I -- No. Not here. Breathe._  
  
A nod. "Yes, sir."  
  
"They kicked you out of your school, and you decided to just give it a go at a new one, right? And for your parents, you're just too much trouble to deal with."  
  
_Trouble -- I -- they..._  
  
Hands clenched, hidden in pockets.  
  
_Breathe slowly. Control._  
  
Sojiro Sakura shook his head at the unresponsive boy, whose face was schooled as well into placidity as he could possibly manage. "Just what have I gotten myself into?" He turned away. "Follow me, and I'll show you to where you'll be staying."  
  
They trudged cross the cafe, then up a set of narrow stairs tucked in the back, just past the nostalgic restaurant's single bathroom. Akira's feet felt like lead on each step. Le Blanc itself was clearly a labor of love -- spotless, the combined aroma of coffee and curry smelling of what was doubtless Sakura's own idea of home -- but these stairs were dusty, littered with stray coffee beans and and a vague sense of neglect. He rubbed at his nose, itchy from dust kicked up by the man above him.

 _Is this where he stashes trash to be forgotten?_  
  
A single look at the cluttered, unwelcoming attic was enough to confirm that morbid wondering.

_Well, what's one more piece of trash?_

He felt a lump in his throat, and swallowed, hard. His eyes wandered in the moments before Sakura turned to face him again.

 _I...I can do something with this. At least it'll be mine. That's something._  
  
"So," Sakura muttered gruffly, "what do you think?"  
  
_Smile_.  
  
"It's...big!"  
  
Seemingly satisfied, his new host nodded and reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, tugging out a small black notebook. "I'm expected to report on what you're up to, but I can't be responsible for everything you choose to do. Use this to keep track of your daily activities."  
  
He tossed it onto an ancient-looking table in the rear of the room, then turned towards the door. "I don't know what I expected from a delinquent whose parents would get rid of him like this, but..." Another deep sigh. "Anyway, if you screw this up, I'm not the one who will be responsible for it. You will be. I have enough on my plate. Speaking of, be ready tomorrow morning. I'm giving up my Sunday to drive you to your new school. You'll be introducing yourself to the administration and to your homeroom teacher."  
  
"My school..."  
  
A displeased grunt. "Don't tell me you forgot. Shujin Academy. It's where you'll be attending while you're on probation. The only place that would take someone like you. So be prepared to make the best impression you can."  
  
_Someone like me._

Despite his best efforts, a tear pricked the corner of Akira's eye. Perhaps sensing the awkwardness, Sojiro began downstairs. _I._...  
  
"Why are you doing this?" It came out in a rushed, awkward croak, and, embarrassed, Akira cleared his throat before continuing. "I mean, taking in....someone like me?"

 _What kind of man am I at the mercy of now?_  
  
Sojiro Sakura faltered. He scratched the back of his head vaguely, eyes distant for a moment before starting slightly and hardening his expression, as though he had to remind himself of who he had before him. "I simply....was asked, and just happened to agree to it. Nothing beyond that. Some customers here are friends of your parents, and they made the request."  
  
Without waiting for a reply, he finished his descent, missing the flash of panic that crossed his new ward's face.

 _Their friends are here? Who? I..._  
  
The sudden realization that he was finally alone in his new room halted the his worries before they could spiral too thoroughly. Akira realized he was holding his breath, and deflated.

 _I'll deal with whatever I have to when I have to. Until then.._  
  
He surveyed the dismally grimy attic again, with even less hope than before. A mostly-dead potted plant. Dust, coffee, dust. A window so smudged that it barely let in a single ray of weak yellow light. Industrial metal shelves cluttered with trash and books. Bare wooden beams stretched below the peaked ceiling.

 _Well, if it goes as well as it seems to be, I can always hang myself. So there's that._  
  
He shook himself.  
_Thanks, but no thanks there, brain._  
  
From downstairs, Akira could hear the clatter of dishes and silverware, and muffled pleasantries between Sakura and a guest. The cheerful bell jingled like a held breath released. Life had seamlessly closed the brief wound he had made by intruding, and his host was back in the warmth of the cafe where he belonged, as if he didn't now have a teenage delinquent stowed in his junk room.  
  
_So is even this not truly mine? What am I doing here?_  
  
The boy fell back on what could loosely be defined as a bed _(a mattress on...are these milk crates? the sheets look clean, at least...)_ and tried to take stock of his situation.  
  
He has a year. A year of his own, regardless of how it came to be.  
  
He has a room. A new school. A fresh start. Well, mostly fresh.

 _Sakura-san already seems to have made up his mind..._  
  
Akira exhaled, and shook his hopelessly messy hair out of his eyes. Tried, anyway -- it fell right back into his glasses. After another halfhearted attempt, he thought _fuck it_ and let it stay there, continuing his rumination. He couldn't truly blame Sojiro Sakura for his skepticism. The man owed him nothing, but was still giving him...whatever this is. Despite whatever his parents and their...friends...had told him. That's something. He might not be able to make the man trust him. Or _(he cringed)_ like him. But Akira could at least do his best to make the time he'd be spending here as unadversarial as possible. He dug a broom out of a pile of household refuse in the corner, and got to work.  
  
_I won't be useless. No matter what kind of person I may be._  
  
  
÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷  
  
_That evening..._  
  
_[[Sojiro Sakura tossed in the night. "Should I really have left that kid alone in the cafe? But it's not like I could have brought him here. Damn it, things are hard enough in this house. Still, he looked..]]_  
  
_A street over, a certain boy was quietly stolen out of what he had always considered "reality."_  
  
÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷  
  
The next morning...  
  
_I'm so tired. I knew sleep could be unrestful, but last night takes the cake. What was that bizarre dream? A blue prison, guards, rehabilitation? I guess some of it makes sense, considering...but how did I manage to dream up something like Igor?_  
  
Strangely his mind danced around the concept of referring to Igor as some _one_.  
  
_Maybe it wasn't restful because it felt too real._  
  
A small shudder.  
  
_Wake up, Akira. Focus on reality, please. Shujin Academy. My last chance of finishing school in a way that's even remotely normal. They were willing to accept me -- that has to mean something, right? This is going to be.._  
  
....seat."  
  
Akira shook himself, realizing his guardian had been speaking as they marched to the man's small beige sedan.  
  
"I'm sorry Sakura-san, what was that?"  
  
A put-upon groan. "I said, I don't usually allow men in my front seat." He idly adjusted the white fedora perched on his head, all the better to show off a slightly receding hairline. "Ugh. And this is how I'm spending my Sunday. I won't be driving you again, do you understand? You'll be taking the train starting tomorrow."  
  
"I understand."  
  
An awkward silence began that stretched out and followed them through the front doors of Shujin Academy. A staff member in the nearby front office pointed them in the direction of Principal Kobayakawa's office. Akira kept up with Sakura's brisk walk, although he kept a distance of a few paces between them.

 _Somehow I think he'll be happier if people don't think he's walking with me._  
  
Kobayakawa had a thick, oozing demeanor, and an even thicker neck, squatting beneath a perfectly hairless head. Akira realized he was simply standing there, staring at the strangely proportioned man, and forced himself to look away. His wandering eyes met those of a woman waiting beside the desk who, despite exuding an aura of frayed nerves and permanent exhaustion, didn't seem exceptionally older than himself. She immediately frowned, broke eye contact, and turned her body slightly away from him.

 _This is going well._  
  
After brief introductions, Kobayakawa started in on him.  
  
"Shujin Academy has a reputation to uphold, and you'll be expected to help preserve that reputation, young man."  
  
... _nod_  
  
"Any wrong doing and you'll be immediately expelled, do you understand?"  
  
... _nod_  
  
"Not many schools would accept a student with your.....history."  
  
...  
  
After more rambling that informed Akira very little about anything important about his school other than the fact that, once again, this wasn't going to be the fresh start he'd hoped for, the administrator gestured carelessly towards the frazzled woman beside him. "This is Kawakami-san. She will be your homeroom teacher."  
  
_Smile. Be polite. Greet her resp--_  
  
"I still don't see why he has to be in _my_ classroom. Wouldn't a male teacher be more suitable to handle someone like him?"  
  
Akira's greeting died in his throat.  
  
Kobayakawa replied with a dismissive "Now, Sadayo, you know your class was the only one with an available seat!"  
  
Downcast eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, Principal Kobayakawa. I suppose.."  
  
...  
  
Akira waited for more, but evidently that was all. After a pregnant pause, Kobayakawa gestured towards the door with a wave of his hand.  
  
_So. That's..._  
  
"Thank you for accepting him. Lord knows I couldn't have him lurking around the cafe all day." Akira was vaguely surprised by the added richness Sakura's voice contained when he was speaking to someone other than him.  
  
_Sakura-san is...staring at me. What does he -- oh, shit._  
  
He turned and bowed to the two staff members. "Thank you for this opportunity."  
  
He looked up. Kobayakawa was no longer even facing them. The man was idly flipping through a note pad that had been laying on his desk, an obvious dismissal. _(Is it...there isnt even any writing on that paper....)_ "Yes, yes, that will be all, Kurusu. Be ready to report to school tomorrow morning."  
  
_Definitely ready to go. But...I'll just be coming right back to...this._  
  
As the pair approached the exit, Sakura turned toward Akira and grumbled, "Well, I don't know what you expected. Things aren't going to be easy for you here. Switching schools is hard without a criminal record, but in your situation...."  
  
"I know. I'll...make it work."  
  
"You'd better. You won't have another chance."  
  
_I know_.  
  
The drive back to Le Blanc was miserably slow, even by Tokyo standards. Sojiro's irritation mounted as he flipped through radio stations, looking for the local news. "At this rate, I won't be able to open the cafe at all. What a waste of a day."  
  
_He's not wrong. Neither of us had a choice in it though.._  
  
Finally, a solemn newscaster relayed the source of the traffic standstill -- "Yet another" subway train had derailed, shutting down several lines and causing dozens of injuries.

_"Yet another?" Is that normal for a city subway?_

Akira's small town hadn't even had a bus line, which left him with no real experience in the matter.  
  
_If it_ is _normal, I wonder what my school commute will be like?_  
  
He caught Sakura glancing at him grimly at that moment. Maybe the man was considering the same thing.

 _He doesn't need to worry about me bothering him for transportation. I know I need to do this on my own._  
  
Akira stared out the window at the sprawling city he'd been tossed into. So many faces. They all seemed to blur together into a grey, indistinct mass. It was...uncomfortable, and reminded him of the strange experience he'd had arriving in Tokyo the afternoon before, in a crowded city square.  
  
He had stepped reluctantly from the beige, enclosed safety of the train station into blinding sunlight, and found himself overwhelmed by the sheer mass and energy of the crowd in the street. The noise; buzzing and boundless and inescapable.

 _Like swarming wasps. Is it like this everywhere?_  
  
He'd taken a moment to center himself, fiddling with his phone to remove an app he couldn't remember downloading _(pretty sure that weird thing is still on my phone, by the way. Didn't I see it in that dream?)_ but when he had raised his eyes....it was to an eerie silence and stillness.

Disjointed, he'd bizarrely thought, " _Did someone pour smoke in the wasp nest? I can see the fire--Fire??_ "  
  
Blue fire ahead, enshrouding...what was it?  
  
Akira shook his head and snapped back to reality as they pulled up beside Le Blanc, just as the life and vibrance of the city had suddenly snapped back into place the previous day.  
  
_I'm too tired. I can't afford to keep spacing out like this, or like that day._  
  
"Hey, lock the door behind you. I can't open the cafe today, so I'm heading home. Don't wander around at night, got it?"  
  
"Yes, Sojiro-san."  
  
"Good. You'll want to leave early tomorrow to make up for the...train delays."  
  
"I will."  
  
Wooden floorboards creaked under his feet, resounding in the otherwise silent building.  
  
The empty cafe was eerie in the half-light of evening. Like wandering around a school after hours, or walking into the home of a person who had died. It was missing a bit of its soul. Akira hurried up the stairs to escape the lonely and oppressive feeling.  
  
_Will it really be better up here? It'll still be a creepy and lonely place._  
  
He flipped on a light in the attic room, and dressed for sleep.  
  
_Well, at least it is_ kind-of-my-own _creepy and lonely place._  
  
In bed, he stretched out his hand in the air above himself, vaguely examining the veins tracing the back of it.  
  
_I can't sleep._  
  
_Do I want to sleep?_  
  
_That dream..._  
  
_I'm not sure....if I can't wait to have it again, or if I want to stay awake forever to avoid it. All that talk about fate, and rehabilitation. A little too on the nose._  
  
A grim chuckle.  
  
_A very long nose_.  
  
Akira clenched his hand into a fist in the deepening dark.  
  
_Whatever. My guardian hates me, my homeroom teacher wants me anywhere but her classroom, back home things are--are-.. . . ..and my dreams are insisting that I'm a prisoner of fate. At least life's consistent. If I know what's expected of me, I can mirror that back to them. I can work with that."_  
  
A fist released to fall limply at his side. Akira closed his eyes.


	2. Oath

_He made me breakfast? Is he....no, it must be part of his obligation in this somehow. Still. It was really good curry._  
  
Akira smiled briefly, remembering the small kindness he'd started his day with. Then, flinched in surprise as a fat drop of rain landed on his nose. Two more splatters. And then the sky opened up.  
  
_Ahh! My book bag is going to get soaked._  
  
He ducked beneath a nearby awning, hoping the deluge would be brief. As he watched the street, he saw people who must be his classmates (judging from their identical uniforms -- black blazers, red and black plaid slacks) scurrying through the rain. Well, not all scurrying. Some of them had been bright enough to bring umbrellas.  
  
_Do I even own an umbrella? I should probably own an umbrella. Practically living on my own, I get the feeling I'll have a lot of moments like this. Suddenly realizing that a comfort or assumption about life I'd previously held was only available before because I'd been dependent on someone else. Not that home was particularly comfor--who is that?_  
  
Akira realized he was sharing his awning with an equally drenched girl. She looked deeply irritated, and was attempting to squeeze rain water from her long blonde pigtails. She caught him staring.  
  
_Crap_.  
  
She stared back, equally silent, for a moment, then turned to watch the street. The rain continued, oblivious to the inconvenience to the both of them. The quiet was strangely comforting and companionable.  
  
**"Hey! You need a ride?"**  
  
Akira startled, but not nearly as intensely as the girl beside him.

 _She practically jumped out of her skin. Is it possible there's a person out there more anxious than I am?_  
  
A car had pulled up beside them, and a man leaning through the window was clearly addressing the girl to his left. He sounded friendly enough, but there was something about the way his eyes never left her for a second...

 _Is he not blinking?_  
  
"Uh. Yeah, thanks!" the girl chirped, the right corner of her lips twitching up and down as a cringe and a smile battled for dominance.  
  
_She sounds cheerful, but..._

Akira frowned.

 _The tone of her voice isn't reaching her eyes. Does she even know this guy? He has to be in his 30s at least..._  
  
He spoke up, "Hey, will you be--" but the man cut him off shortly.  
  
"So we're clear, I wasn't inviting you. Ha!" He turned to the girl (who, by now, was perched rigidly in the passenger seat) familiarly. "Can you imagine, Ann? You want to try to squeeze in here with that strange kid?" The window rolled up with a whirr, and Akira narrowly avoided the spray of rainwater as they took off.  
  
He stared after the vehicle, turning the moment over in his mind.

_Was she....okay? I hope she makes it to school._

_Shit. School!_  
  
He dashed out from under the awning just in time to nearly be tackled by a disheveled boy, also in the Shujin uniform (with the addition of a very loud, definitely-not-uniform yellow t-shirt), who seemed to be in a similar hurry. "Shit!" the boy hissed. "That Kamoshida is such a pervert."  
  
_Pervert? Oh no, and I let her...._  
  
"Kamoshida?"  
  
The boy eyed him skeptically. "Yeah, Kamoshida. The guy in that car? Our P.E. teacher? You go to Shujin right? You should know him."  
  
"Oh, I, uh..."  
  
The boy's eyes lit up with realization, "Oh shit, are you that new transfer student everyone's talkin' about?"  
  
Dismayed, "Everyone? Oh n--"  
  
He was cut off, the other kid clearly still fuming. "Well, you'll meet him. Friggin Kamoshida. Thinks he's like the king of a castle or somethin'."  
  
_* &%○°beginning..^▪`navigation#"-_  
  
What is my phone doing? I had the GPS up for the school, but that bizarre app with the red eye icon is acting up again.  
  
_》》》》 >>>>>•¤◇°×_  
  
_?¿?¿?A sudden wash of disorientation?¿?¿?_  
_A---aagh! Where did this headache come from?_  
  
The boy beside him began rubbing his temple at that same moment.

 _Maybe it's an air pressure thing, from the storm._  
  
"Hey, I, uh...I need to..."  
  
"C'mon man, we've gotta get to school. Follow me, I know the quick way."  
  
Akira trailed after the spiky-haired kid through a short network of side streets, only to emerge before a building that was.....absolutely not Shujin Academy.

 _Where is our school? Is that a fucking--_  
  
"A friggin castle?! What the hell! Where is our school?"  
  
Sure enough, gloomy stone walls loomed anachronistically over the average city street, and turrets stabbed the slate grey skies. Everything in sight was choked by fingers of ominous bruise-colored fog.

_I don't think we could have found a building that looked less like our school if we tried. What is happening with my life?_

He rubbed his aching temple.

 _This is not helping my headache._  
  
His new acquaintance threw a horrified look his way that mirrored Akira's emotions precisely. "I SWEAR I'm not outta my mind. That is the same way I go to school literally every day of my life." He flailed, frustrated. "What the hell is going on here, man? I'm historically pretty oblivious, but even I would have noticed a castle in town. This has never been here before."  
  
An awkward pause.  
  
_This is....honestly absurd. What can I do with this other than, I don't know, laugh in horror?_  
  
The other boy seemed to find his mental footing somehow. Akira wasn't sure whether this made him impressively resilient, or bizarrely nonchalant. He straightened his posture and advanced towards the castle _(/school?)_ with a huff. "Whatever, man. Maybe this is some kind of weird event? I'm goin' in. You coming with?"  
  
As he was deciding, his phone decided to chime in with a shaky _%#'y.ou-have* >arriv'ed at ×your,?¿destination [ö. navi÷gation__xcomplete+:(_  
  
_Uh. I sure as hell have_ not _arrived at my destination, but..._

"Sure, might as well go in. Maybe someone inside can tell us what's going on, or give us directions if we got turned around."  
  
Trailing behind his new classmate, Akira stepped through a pair of enormous wooden doors into an opulent but poorly lit foyer. A pair of dark stone staircases lead out of sight to a higher floor. Heavy rugs and tapestries combined with bare stone walls and unsettling statuary to give an impression of a building that was both plush and deeply uncomfortable.

Just as he'd finished taking in his surroundings, Akira was startled by swift, purposeful clanking sounds thudding in their direction. He adjusted his focus and saw three....knights? clunking in heavy armor from the outskirts of the room.

_What is going on here?  There's no way this is normal, even in the city._

The other boy seemed to lose a little of his previously regained nerve. "Uh....this has to be some kind of joke." Directed at the "knights," he stammered in a shaky laugh, "A--are you guys in costume? Is this some kinda practical jok--" only to be cut off by a violent back-handing from the nearest armored sentinel.  
  
_What the fuck?!_  
  
"Hey, you can't do that! Why would you do that?" Akira shouted in horror, standing protectively over the other kid, who had been thrown to the floor by the force of the blow.  
  
A deep voice emanating from another suit of armor boomed, snidely, "We don't answer to you, Sakamoto. You useless thug. How dare you trespass in King Kamoshida's castle?"  
  
_Kamoshida? Wait, isn't that..?_  
  
From the floor, the injured boy spat, "I shoulda known. Fuck Kamoshida, that--" ((THWACK!!)) This time, blood flew from his face as the flat of a sword smashed across his mouth.  
  
"SILENCE!"  
  
Akira pleaded "No!" in horror, but was drowned out by another guard decreeing darkly that "All trespassers will be imprisoned and tried for the glory of King Kamoshida" as they advanced toward him, blades out. Another vicious thud from a sword and Akira, stunned, barely registered  
  
_that was me......_  
  
before being swallowed by the blackness of unconsciousness.  
  
÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷  
  
_One floor away, still in reality, an exhausted young woman stared at the clock in the teacher's lounge of Shujin Academy. "Ugh, of course he's late. And on his first day. Why me?"_

 _She flopped her head down on a nest of uncorrected papers and sighed. "I know that it's my duty to give him a chance, but if he isn't even going to try...?"_  
  
÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷  
  
_Cold. I'm so cold. Why am I shaking?_  
  
Bleary eyed, Akira pulled himself to a sitting position.  
  
_What a weird dream. What is wrong with my brain lately?_  
  
He felt rough stone beneath his hands, and his eyes snapped open to a scene of torchlight and torture devices.  
  
_NOT A DREAM_.  
  
He felt the back of his aching head gingerly, and when he pulled his fingers away they were coated with a thin, sticky layer of blood. A glance around him showed that he was in some sort of prison cell, in the same medieval theme as the castle he'd thought _(hoped)_ he'd dreamt up. Thick iron bars made up the only wall that wasn't solid stone and covered in some variety of manacle or otherwise medieval nightmare fuel.  
  
_This can't be real_.  
  
A groan to his left alerted him to the fact that his companion _(Sakamoto, apparently?)_ had also awoken. The boy's mouth was raw and bruised, and Akira watches him probe it, confused, before a horror dawned on his face that Akira assumed must mirror his own.  
  
"What....what is this shit?"  
  
"I...."  
  
Sakamoto gingerly made his way over to him, brown eyes wide. "Man, this is real, right?" He prodded the inside of his bloody lip with his tongue. "Sure as shit feels real. We've gotta get out of--"  
  
The clang of an iron door being thrust open stopped him midsentence, but when Sakamoto saw who strode through the door, flanked on each side by a pair of armored guards, Akira could see him winding up for another outburst. Clothed in a ridiculously plush royal cape and, so far as Akira could tell, only that cape, a vaguely familiar face scowled at Sakamoto with contempt.  
  
_The man from the car?!_  
  
_Why...why is he naked??_  
  
"Kamoshida...." the other boy seethed, eyes narrowed, shaking with rage. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Even a shithead like you can't think you'll get away with something like this!"  
  
Akira glanced anxiously at his companion, somewhat in awe that he would dare curse out an adult in this situation. He was entranced by his fury, and by his immediate resolve.  
  
_He's only going to make this worse!_  
  
_But...he's fighting back anyway._  
  
_Someone in power like this...can you really stand up to them without being destroyed?_  
  
As if in acknowledgment to his silent question, the caped man before him chuckled, then glowered grimly. "You know as well as I do, Ryuji Sakamoto, that in a place like this I can do whatever--" a sharp kick from a bare foot hit the boy square in the ribs "--the HELL--" Sakamoto grunted as another kick connected in the thigh "--I WANT!" A final stomp came down to crush the fallen boy's tibia, and finally, horribly, his stoicism dissolved into a piteous scream.  
  
_NO!_  
  
"Sakamoto!" Akira reached out to the boy only to have his path blocked by two living doors of steel.  
  
Seemingly satisfied, Kamoshida muttered, "This is MY kingdom. MY rules. And now, you will be subject to MY punishment. Guards, carry out his sentence -- death."  
  
_Death?! This can't be.. this is so far past bizarre. They can't just kill him. No._  
  
"Oh, and," Kamoshida turned to Akira passively, as if he were only the smallest of afterthoughts, "the same goes for this one as well." A smirk. "You should have chosen your company more carefully, instead of throwing in your lot with trash like this."  
  
A pair of guards crushed Sakamoto against the dingy dungeon wall, and prepared to strike. Akira couldn't take this any longer. He wasn't going to just sit back and watch another human being be destroyed.  
  
_If he can stand up..._  
  
He forced his trembling legs to obey his mind.  
  
_If he can fight these shitty adults, even if he knows it'll have horrible consequences...._  
  
Akira squared his shoulders, and fixed his gaze as menacingly as possible on the rogue teacher.  
  
_Then the only thing holding me back is my own personal weakness. I won't be weak!_  
  
"I won't let you!" he bellowed at the menacing trio.  
  
A pair of stunned yellow eyes turned to meet his, then immediately crinkled with humor. "You won't let me? And just _how_ does a rotten kid like you plan to stand against me? Guards! I've changed my mind. Kill this one first, and make Sakamoto watch."  
  
Ryuji Sakamoto was released from their iron grip, and fell to the floor with a hiss and a thud. He gathered his breath, and wailed hoarsely, " _NO!_ Man, run, you've got nothing to do with this!"  
  
_I'm not running_.  
  
The guards descended upon him.  
  
_I'm not running_.  
  
They slammed him into a wall, bruising his shoulders with iron hands.  
  
_Not anymore._  
  
They raised their swords as, in the background, an injured Ryuji struggled to stand.  
  
_Not ever again!_  
  
As this final decisiveness settled into his very bones, Akira felt a weight of bondage release from his soul. A strange voice echoed through the core of his being; a voice that felt like hell, and like home.  
  
_**I've been waiting for you. So, you've decided you cannot simply watch the destruction of another.**_  
  
A cold fire erupted through his chest, and he broke out into feverish sweat.  
  
_**You know that death awaits him if you do nothing, and you've taken it upon yourself to deem this unacceptable.** _  
  
His hands shook, but this time with an energy of airless anticipation, rather than fear.

 _That terrible wonderful breathless feeling that envelops you when you expect another stair in the dark, and instead find yourself falling into an endless nothing._  
  
_**I am the other you that has slumbered inside you. The spirit of rebellion, ready to stride with you into eternal battle.**_  
  
He clenched his fists, and felt his nails digging bloodily into his soft palms.

_That feeling of surety and readiness, just before you hit the ground._

**_Will you accept me, knowing that to do so is a sacrilegious act that shall chain you to hell itself?_**  
  
_Yes._  
  
_Yes._  
  
_A thousand times over, yes._  
  
Akira's mind echoed with the remembrance of the copper taste of blood in his own mouth. The rejection of helplessness. The longing for damnation, if it was something he could choose for himself.  
  
His heart struggled in his chest, as frantic and frenetic as his stilled breath was not. This felt like he'd always imagined death would.

_This feels right._

**_Very well. You have found your resolve._**  
  
**_I am thou, thou art I._**  
  
**_Together, we will walk a path of destruction to execute thine own will. Call upon me, and release thy rage!_ **  
  
_One final weight. One final weight on my soul, and then I'm free to do what I will. I accept this pain._  
  
Akira's hands reached up to grasp a mask that had inexplicably formed across his eyes, bound to his very skin like a wreath of bone, like the representation of the very protective shell he'd purposefully built to guard his last surviving shred of youth and tenderness. He understood.  
  
_I have to be willing to risk the ruin of even the very last parts of myself I've managed to preserve. Still, I accept!_  
  
With a wrench, Akira ripped the mask from his eyes and was temporarily blinded by a torrent of his own blood. Unheeding of this, he shouted, "ARSENE!" and descended into his own deep well of fury.

A chilling blast of force created through sheer will and years of hidden bitterness compressed and sharpened into an ugly blade was thrown from his body, crashing into the armored sentinels and throwing them bodily into the "king" they'd sworn to protect, knocking his ring of keys to the ground in a tinny clatter.

King Kamoshida's eyes widened into the look of disbelieving anger that can only come from a powerful person who has yet to experience a true fall. "Guards! I commanded you to destroy him! Do so, or risk disappointing your king!"  
  
Behind Kamoshida, Ryuji Sakamoto looked on in stunned awe, as he finally pulled himself upright against the dungeon wall. "Hoooly shit." The boy trembled, but steadied himself.  
  
As Ryuji looked on, the very chains Akira had bound himself in to survive were now loosed to become weapons against his foes. Wrapped in them, and wreathed in a cloak of familiar blue fire, he descended upon the guards, unleashing years of fury. They crumbled swiftly beneath his onslaught.  
  
Satisfied temporarily, he turned coolly to the monarch before him, who seemed to now be planning his escape. "Sakamoto." Akira glanced the boy at his side. "Grab those keys. We're leaving." He positioned his body defensively between Kamoshida and the key ring to give the weakened Ryuji a solid head start, then backed towards the door, staring down the furiously impotent king as he went. Once they were through the door, Ryuji handed off the key ring, and Akira locked Kamoshida in his own dungeon with a satisfying ((CLANK)).  
  
Finally, he took a breath, only to realize his companion was eyeing him with nervous awe.  
  
"Dude. What. Was. That?"  
  
_I honestly have no answer, other than...that was good. That was so good._  
  
"And what the hell are those clothes?!"  
  
_Clothes?_  
  
Akira looked down at himself in surprise, and in an initial disconnect, didn't feel as though he was even looking at his own body. Wreathed in long black formal wear and high Victorian boots, he felt like the legendary thief his Persona was born from.  
  
_Red gloves, though. Are they symbolic of the blood I've agreed to shed?_

_Their blood or mine?_

Perversely, he didn't much care either way.  
  
Just as he had taken in his bizarre wardrobe change, the adrenaline high he had been operating under dissolved, taking the costume with it.  
  
_Back in my school clothes...._  
  
((CLANG!!))  
  
Both he and Ryuji jumped as Kamoshida threw himself against the iron bars beside them. "Let me out of here, you useless punks! I'm going to enjoy destroying you."  
  
"Yeah. Uh. Raincheck on that. Sakamoto, we need to get out of here."  
  
"Hell yeah. But uhh you're gonna have to explain to me what just happened back there." his new _((friend?))_ stated as they slunk away, attempting to keep to the shadows.  
  
A heady chuckle. "Uh, sure, as soon as I understand it myself."

_What am I supposed to tell him?_

_That I feel like I was fated to gain some strange and terrible power after meeting a weird troll and blue twins in my dreams?_

_I think I'll keep that to myself, and let him continue to believe I'm at least_ slightly _sane._  
  
Initially, Akira was still running high on the thrill of the fight and discovery of new power, but as the search for an exit to the dungeon dragged on from one dead end to another, his energy waned, and a nagging anxiety returned.

_We can't run into another enemy like this. We have to get out of here._

They travelled frustratingly slowly through the winding bowels of the castle, despite Ryuji's attempts to hide the fact that he was favoring his injured leg.  
  
_The guy needs to rest. I hate dragging him forward, but we both need to get through this to survive._  
  
Just as he was about to wearily suggest retracing their steps across yet another drawbridge, hoping to find a path they'd missed in the torchlit gloom, a small, sharp voice called out to them from a cell hidden at the end of what they'd assumed was an empty block.  
  
"Hey! Yeah you, the pair of idiots stomping around like you've never heard of subterfuge! Get me out of here, and I swear, I can get you out too!"  
  
_What have we gotten into now...?_  
  
Staring up at them was the strangest creature Akira had seen, excepting his naked P.E. teacher. It was a cat? Some kind of mascot? Just a weird little creature? Whatever it was, it was frantic.  
  
"Don't just stand there! You have to get me out of this cell." With pleading, luminous eyes, it beseeched, "Please. My name is Morgana. I'm a prisoner, just like you. But unlike you two, I came here with a purpose, and I know the way out."  
  
Ryuji looked as skeptical as Akira felt. "Can we trust a weird cat-thing like this?"  
  
_How should I know? Probably not?_  
  
Morgana hissed in displeasure. "Weird cat thing? How dare you! I'm a real live human!"  
  
Scoffing, Ryuji rejoined, "I don't know what you _are,_ but you aren't like any human I've ever seen."  
  
Now downcast, Morgana muttered, "That's because I lost my true form...but--" his eyes shot up and out of his iron cage, alerted by a sound in the not-so-distant rear of the dungeon. "They're coming! Make your choice NOW!"  
  
_If I go with my gut....this thing (person?)..he doesn't seem bad._  
  
Akira nodded, finally, and unlocked the cell door.  
  
Ryuji shook his head. "So we're goin' with that, huh? Whatever. Cat, you'd better hold up your end of the deal!"  
  
" **Mor-ga-na.** " the creature scowled, emphasizing each syllable as though saying it more slowly might get his identity through the bleach blonde boy's evidently thick skull. "And," he proudly announced, "I'll do better than that, not that you deserve it." Then, addressed to Akira, "Come on. You can fight, right?"  
  
A tentative nod.  
  
"Then let's get out of here! I'll lead the way, and you can serve as my backup. By the way, here's something to fix what's wrong with his face." He handed them two tubes of what was apparently a medicinal tincture of some sort.  
  
Ryuji examined one dubiously before shrugging and downing it. He was skeptical...but to Akira's untrained eyes, after a few minutes of sneaking through the shadows with the definitely-not-a-cat-monster, the swelling in his face seemed to lessen, and he seemed to favor his leg less severely.  
  
Seeing his friend in apparently less pain released a tension Akira hadn't even realized he was carrying. "Morgana" had earned a small pearl of trust from him for this unasked-for act of kindness.  
  
After what felt like an hour of creeping slowly upward through the castle, during which Morgana explained the strange world they'd stepped foot in as succinctly as possible, he murmured to the pair of boys, "We're close to the entrance, but I can see an unavoidable shadow around the corner."  
  
Ryuji shook his head. "I can't wrap my head around this shadow thing. Sure as hell didn't feel like some wispy _shadow_ when it was dragging me up a wall."  
  
"All you need to understand is that they aren't beings in reality as you've come to understand it. This is a mental world, and the shadows are manifestations of consciousness that are drawn to the mind of the ruler of this palace."  
  
"Right. Uh. That. Cleared it up."  
  
"Anyway. There's a shadow in our path to the exit, and there's no dancing around it this time. It has to be fought." The cat turned his strange bulbous eyes towards Akira. "Can I count on you to back me up?"  
  
Without hesitation, Akira assented. As if responding to his resolve, he found himself briefly cloaked in a small swirl of dark energy as his formal attire embraced his figure once again.  
  
_That's....more of a relief than I want to admit. I don't know what I would have done if I couldn't call upon that power again._  
  
Morgana nodded in approval. "Now it is time to show you what I can do! Zorro!"

 _He has this power as well?  What_ is  _he?_

_What am I?_

In the ensuing battle, the two Persona users fought together surprisingly fluidly for two entities that had only met an hour previous. Ryuji watched from the sidelines with curiosity, and a tiny hint of jealousy. Afterward, he remarked, "Not that I really wanna be fightin', but I don't like sitting here helpless. And, honestly," he grinned brightly at Akira, "That was pretty friggin' cool."  
  
"Yes," Morgana piped up dramatically, "The life of a Phantom Thief is certainly stylish! I can understand why a punk like you would look up to us!"  
  
An indignant " _HEY_!" rang out, before Ryuji was hushed rather violently by his two companions.  
  
"Numbskull!" the not-cat hissed. "Don't ruin the operation when we are moments away from success! The exit is through that vent above us. Now, go!"  
  
The boys clambered into the vent, (Akira more gracefully than his companion) through the wall, and breathed a sigh of relief as they tumbled after Morgana into the cloudy afternoon light. He felt one moment of pure, genuine joy at having overcome their captor and escaped, before reeling back and realizing....  
  
_Afternoon?_  
  
_Oh no._  
  
_No._  
  
_I'm so dead._  
  
_At least murder-by-shadow-knight might have been quick. Death by Sakura-san when I'm half a day late for school on my first day is absolutely going to be worse._  
  
With these horrified ruminations spinning in his head, heart pounding, Akira missed the majority of an argument that Ryuji was having with Morgana _(something about a deal? I don't care, I have to go!)_  
  
_Murdered. Destroyed. Ruined. No no no no_  
  
Barely pausing to make sure that Ryuji was still trailing behind him, Akira dashed past the confines of the castle's grounds and out into the dim, but blessedly real, sunlight of reality.  
  
_ &>wel°come÷back//to!&rea^lity~`●_


	3. The Delinquent's Club

  
In a breathless, terrible warping of air, Akira escaped the confines of the Palace and found himself at the mouth of the last alley they'd exited before stumbling upon the castle. Shujin Academy was, just as Ryuji had previously insisted, just up the block. In a panic he dashed out of the alley, heedless of how that might make him look to passers-by. That was a mistake.  
  
"HEY! KID! Stop immediately!" a male voice blared.  
  
Akira's eyes snapped over to find the source of the admonishment, and his entire body went cold when he sighted an angry-looking police officer striding his way from across the street.  
  
_No.._  
  
In the time it took for the stern man to cross, a memory flashed through Akira's frightened mind as his figure froze.  
  
_[[A little boy reached excitedly in the direction of a passing police officer, who smiled down at the boy._

_He'd just learned about local community "helpers" in kindergarten, and the buttons on the man's uniform were even more impressively shiny than he'd imagined._

_His small grin was truly radiant in return, only to be quickly startled away when his father's grip on his hand tightened, and he found himself gently turned aside._

_Father and mother shared a dark look._  
  
_They strolled together across the street with an air of attempted deliberate nonchalance. Once out of sight, his father knelt down to look him directly, intensely in the eyes._  
  
_"Never do that again. You can't trust the police, Aki. All they do is interfere in families. I've heard so many stories....you'll never understand the danger." The little boy's bright eyes sparked with fear as he watched his father grimly shake his head._  
  
_(( Stories? Danger? But we learned....did my teacher lie? ))_  
  
_"But my teacher..."_  
  
_"They are paid to tell you things like that. We are all supposed to believe that the police are safe. But they're not, son. I'm sorry."_  
  
_(( So she lied. ))_

 _A tiny heart broke a little._  
  
_Lips twisted nervously. Shiny, trusting eyes looked upward. "Ok, dad."_  
  
_From the sidelines, his mother chimed in, gently but firmly. "He's right, sweetheart. There have been children who were taken away from their families because they accidentally said the wrong thing to an officer, and the police took it the wrong way. It is so sad. Even if it is an accident, there's no taking it back. It is so easy for something to go wrong. Do you understand?"_  
  
_Childish panic. A tiny bird heart beating faster._

_(( Taken away? ))_

_(( Taken where? I don't want to be taken...Things are scary outside of my family. ))_  
  
_Tearily, "Y-yes, mom."_

_Guilt._

_(( Why was I happy about something so **bad?** ))_

_The next time he saw an officer, he turned away on his own, a little fist clenched in his pocket. ]]_  
  
".....s your explanation, young man?!"  
  
A grown fist clenched in a larger pocket, Akira willed himself to speak.

_Just give him what he wants Akira._

_Easy._

_Just..._  
  
He forced his mouth open, only to see the officer's eyes alight on something behind Akira. Those same eyes then narrowed. "You too, then, Sakamoto? Again?!"  
  
His new friend sauntered beside him nonchalantly. "Yeah. What of it?"  
  
His heart fighting wildly in his chest, Akira forced his rigid body to relax, watching Ryuji.

 _He's done this before. Maybe he knows how to act...?_  
  
The officer's eyes hardened angrily.  
  
_Nope nope nope he doesn't know now to act._  
_Heart beating-beating-beating-beating-_  
  
"I'll be contacting the school, _and_ your parents about this tardiness. Get out of here. I'll be watching to ensure you end up where you're supposed to be."  
  
_My.....parents? But I'm not--right, he doesn't know me. He can't really--but Sakura-san won't be any better, will he??"_  
  
The officer sighed, hardness wearing down slightly into weariness. Akira's stomach flipped in confusion at the change in demeanor. "I don't know about your new....friend here....but I know you don't have to be like this, Sakamoto-kun. Just....do better."  
  
Ryuji shrugged off the speech. "Whatever. I'm goin', okay?" and began slinking toward the school gates, hands in his pockets. He paused as he realized that Akira wasn't following him, and tugged on the boy's sleeve.  
  
Akira's frozen body finally released, like a spell broken, and he trailed behind the boy, thoughts of doom still circling in his mind.  
  
_Is it.....done? Just like that?_  
  
_...I...I can't take any more confrontation today. I just need something to go right._

_Well, something other than awakening to disturbing and terrifying and wonderful magic powers that only work in some bizarre dreamland._

_Those won't save me from homelessness or a ruined life if I've destroyed my chances at this school._  
  
He gulped, and made himself glance up from the sidewalk, intending to steel himself to walk through the front doors, only to find himself staring directly into _the last fucking face he wanted to see right now._  
  
_Kamoshida._  
  
_Heart beating-beating-beating-i locked this man in a dungeon--beating-beating--he wants us dead--beating-beating-beatingBeating--whyherewhynow?--bea..._  
  
A voice behind the pair of boys alerted a desperately edgy Akira to the fact that they were flanked by a _pair_ of teachers, one of whom was evidently some sort of murderous pervert (at least if Ryuji's earlier rambling was to be believed. And after what he'd seen, Akira had no reason to discount him.)  
  
"Sakamoto!" thundered the man behind him. "You think it is acceptable to just stroll in here, past the lunch hour?" Turning to Akira now, "What is this, the new delinquents club? Sakamoto is not someone you want to hang your reputation on."  
  
Kamoshida smugly interjected, "Judging by Sakamoto's face, someone's already given him what he deserved today. Just get to class, both of you. "  
  
_What he deserved?! That fucking bastard._

 ** _YOU DID THAT._**  
  
Akira's face twisted with fury for a moment. He was only able to rein it in when he saw how ashen his friend's own countenance had become. He placed a steadying hand on the boy's back, and could feel Ryuji shaking through the thin fabric of his light blazer--though from fear or anger he couldn't tell.  
  
_Or is that my hand shaking? My **own** fear and anger.._  
  
The combination of emotions made him dizzy.  
  
_Maybe I'm only steadying myself._  
  
He withdrew his hand.  
  
The other teacher, seemingly disappointed, grumbled, "Hm, Kamoshida-san, you're far more lenient than I would be, but so be it." and gestured violently toward the doors of the school.  
  
The boys trudged silently up the front steps, feeling the eyes of their enemy boring amusedly into their backs the entire way. To walk like that, knowing so much intensity and malice was directed at you from behind, and not being able to permit yourself to acknowledge it at all...  
  
_Is this how Orpheus felt, trying to walk out of the underworld?_

 _But **he** looked back..._  
  
_I guess self-destructive impulses have been carried down through the ages._  
  
He shook the thoughts out of his head.  
  
Before parting ways, Ryuji turned to him and murmured, "Listen, man....we have to talk about this....thing. Everything. Whatever. Meet me on the roof after school. It'll be unlocked. I saw some shit in that place that I..." He turned away. "Just meet me, okay?"  
  
_How could I possibly say no?_  
"Yeah. Okay."  
  
Seemingly satisfied, Ryuji left for his classes, and Akira readied himself for the funeral march he now needed to make to the teacher's lounge.  
  
_Will Kawakami-san even be there anymore? If it is really past the lunch hour..._

He cringed. Lost in thought, it took him a moment to hear the whispers following him as he crept through the halls.  
  
_"Walking in with Sakamoto-kun...."_  
  
_"No way, is HE the...?"_  
  
_"I hear he carries a knife in his bag!"_  
  
_"Well I bet--"_  
  
_"You can see it in the way he--"_  
  
_"Someone told me he was involved in an assault on a woman! I bet the people he attacked barely got away!"_  
  
_"....n a gang!"_  
  
_"Ugh, how can they let someone like that be here? Isn't that a safety issue for the student body?"_  
  
_"Someone like that--"_  
  
_"He looks--"_  
  
_"...should complain!"_  
  
_"His eyes!"_  
  
_"You think he--"_  
  
Tears in his eyes, Akira rushed down the final hall to his destination. He paused outside the door to wipe the moisture from his face angrily.  
  
_I did this all for nothing. There's no such thing as a fresh start. I should have known, when Ryuji said that everyone was talking, but this--! I can't...._  
  
His shoulders heaved.  
  
_I can't do this!_  
  
They collapsed.  
  
_But I'm already locked into this choice. I'm here. Whatever. What they think, that isn't who I am._

 _They...want to see a delinquent, but I won't give them anything._  
  
_Except I already have..._  
  
_...So does that make it true?_  
  
He opened the door with a hesitant ((click)).  
  
_I think that tousled mess of brown hair slumped there is my homeroom teacher._

 _So, she did wait._  
  
Guilt flooded him.  
  
_She waited, and I went and did this. Even if it wasn't my fault...it isn't like intent matters, in the end._

 _I..._  
  
She stirred at the sound of his footsteps on the tile floor.  
  
_Shit, how do I approach her? She seemed so unhappy and nervous to have to deal with....someone like me._

_So._

_Unthreatening, I guess?_  
  
Akira stopped when be was still several paces away, and did his best to scrunch his body into something as small and unassuming as possible. He adjusted his glasses, and tried to brush his hair out of his eyes.

_Too tense. Go...languid?_

He unlocked his knees, and coughed to alert her to his presence.  
  
She jumped, and straightened up at her desk immediately.  
  
"Kawakami-san?"  
  
The woman put her hand over her face and groaned.  
  
_She looks....hung over. Or is it just stress?_  
  
"Kurusu-kun...."  
  
_She sounds so disappointed. But so does everyone lately, so I should honestly get used to it._  
  
She glanced at the clock. "You are unacceptably late. You've already missed several class periods." Sternly now, "I've been waiting here for hours!" She began running her fingers through tangled brown hair, likely trying to unmuss it and regain some semblance of professionalism.

 _Truth be told, it....didn't really work._  
  
_My life is more of a mess than her hair is._ _Stop staring at her._  
Akira stared at his feet instead. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I think you owe me some sort of explanation, don't you?"  
  
"I...the trains were late, because of the accident."

 _What a lame excuse, Akira._  
  
Skeptically, she remarked that he could have walked to school in a shorter period of time, and he couldn't really argue. Akira apologized again, and then once more to hopefully add sincerity. Kawakami seemed unconvinced.  
  
"Well, we can't wait any longer. Go on to class. I'll introduce you. If anyone asks why you're late, frankly, I expect you to lie. Please, lie." She shook her head, frazzled. "If you're to have any chance at all of assimilating into this school, you really need to learn to blend in better. Although, with the rumors already floating around...."  
  
Akira flinched.  
  
His teacher, wide-eyed, asserted, "I didn't have anything to do with that, to be clear," then added, thoughtfully, "I honestly don't know who did. I'm sorry." Akira was surprised to see a spark of kindness flutter across her face. It made her look much younger.  "You...deserved a better start than this. Anyway, lets get going."  
  
_That wasn't great, but it could have been worse. I thought it would be worse._

He tentatively allowed a small scrap of the tension in his gut to unwind.   
  
Akira followed his teacher to his homeroom, where he followed her lead and lied through his teeth, _(apparently I was sick this morning. Who knew?)_ then settled into his desk behind a familiar pair of blonde pigtails.  
  
_Looks like she made it here after all._  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief for at least one small, good thing.  
  
"Lies." came a hiss from the chair in front of him.  
  
_What??_  
  
Ann _(that's right, Kamoshida called her Ann)_ turned to glare at him briefly before shaking her head and pointedly returning her gaze to the front of the classroom.  
  
_Crap. That's right. She knows I wasn't sick this morning._  
  
_Or late from the train._  
  
Akira sunk as deeply and dejectedly into his chair as he could.  
  
_It doesn't seem like she's going to call me out on it. But with my luck, she's just biding her time._  
  
His depressive mood followed him through the remaining hours of droning from teachers and murmurs from his peers that haunted his every step.  
  
Even the bell ringing at the end of the day didn't feel like a respite. Akira knew he had one final responsibility, but the grueling nature of the day had left him with no energy for it.  
  
_But there's nothing to be done about it. Off to the roof, I guess._


	4. With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pretty short chapter, I know, but I'm better at breaking things up into small pieces, ha. This is entirely Ryuji & Akira's roof convo.
> 
> A song for today -- Shyness by Thieves Like Us

Akira pushed through the DO NOT ENTER signs plastered on the stiff, heavy door to the roof, then blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden blinding sunlight.  
  
_Guess the rain cleared._  
  
He found Ryuji lounging against a wall, flanked by panes of cucumber glass and chipped ceramic gardening pots. When his friend noticed him, he immediately straightened up, then half-tripped over a trowel on the ground. He caught himself, but not before Akira noted the wincing hiss he let out when his foot thudded harshly against the concrete.  
  
_Shit! He's still hurt._  
  
Akira rushed over to his friend, and, although Ryuji tried halfheartedly to brush him off, helped him to a seated position on a nearby bench. Settling down next to him, Akira sympathized, "The medicine that Morgana-cat gave us wasn't worth much after all, huh?"  
  
Ryuji shook his head ruefully, stretching his leg out to rest his foot on a long, low planter. "No, man, actually it helped a lot with what Kamoshida did in there. This...." he gestured at the outstretched leg "..this whole thing, it's old. Sorry, usually I hide it a little better."  
  
Akira frowned. "You shouldn't have to hide that you're in pain."  
  
A surprisingly dark chuckle fell from his friend's lips. "Ha. Dude, if I showed it every time I hurt, all I'd be doin' would be whining and wincing. Besides, I...." His eyes grew distant "I try to pretend it isn't there, because if I don't, I remember how it happened and I just get friggin pissed! I can't be like that. I'm pissed enough as it is." He scowled, then shook his head. "Besides, it's not like anybody at this damn school would care."  
  
He sighed, shoulders settling down resignedly. "But I guess I've gotta think about it right now, because it ties in to what I wanna talk to you about. You saw that we weren't the only prisoners down there, right?"  
  
Akira looked back. He'd been pretty focused on survival, on just getting out of that place.  
  
_Selfish._  
  
_But, thinking about it....yeah. There was an awful lot of screaming for that dungeon to be unoccupied. And there were cages everywhere._  
  
He nodded. "Yeah, there must have been others." A cold breeze blew through the uncovered rooftop, rustling plastic bags half-full of what looked like dirt and fertilizer. Akira shivered, and put his freezing hands in his pockets.  
  
_Storm is gone, but that doesn't mean that things are comfortable again._  
  
Ryuji looked down, dragging the toes of the sneaker on his uninjured limb in circles on the ground. Then, he began. "I dunno really why I'm telling you all this, but you really sorta need to know, and besides, you seem like the kinda guy who'll listen."  
  
"You....think so?"  
  
_But I'm not really....they've always said, after all..._  
  
**_[[ Why aren't you capable of listening to the rules we've set out for you, Aki?! ]]_**  
  
_Stop._

_This is different._

_Not about me. He clearly needs to get this out._  
  
Akira nodded encouragingly. "Yeah, you can tell me."  
  
A pair of bright brown eyes rose to meet his own for a moment, then returned to the ground. "Thanks, man. Anyway. I used to be on the track team. Our old coach was awesome as shit. Always pushed us to our limits, but like, no more than that, y'know? Just enough to make us grow. I really....really thrived there." He trailed off, but then his hands clenched the edge of the bench so roughly that his fingertips turned white.  
  
"But Kamoshida came in with his whole 'oooh I'm an Olympic gold medalist!' schtick and demanded to take over coaching. I think.....I think he just wanted us out of the way to keep the spotlight for his precious volleyball team."  
  
_Out of the way...?_  
  
Angrily, Ryuji vented, "It wasn't fair! We had an awesome team, but it didn't matter, because he had it out for us from day one! He friggin tortured my team. One by one, the newbies dropped out, until the only members left were the really dedicated ones, who had nothing else to lose."  
  
His iron grip on the bench relented, hands falling limply beside his thighs. "Like me."  
  
"Once he had us like that, the gloves really came off. It's like he knew he could do whatever he wanted to us, because we needed to be there so badly. Hard training became something that wasn't....wasn't right. Kids were going home black and blue, and nobody was friggin sayin' **_anything!_**  
  
"I couldn't stand to see my guys treated like that. And I was sick of being looked down on. I just....I wanted things to go back to how they were, with our old coach.  
  
"So I fought back.  
  
"And he....."  
  
Perhaps without even realizing it, Ryuji's hand made its way almost protectively to the injured leg.

_Oh. Oh, no._

Akira's eyes widened. "He did that to you?! In the real world?"  
  
Bitterly, Ryuji admitted, "Yeah. Broke it. Tch. Said it was 'self defense.' And used it as an excuse to disband the track team due to an 'inexcusable act of violence from a student.'"  
  
**_[[ "Damn brat, I'll sue!" ]]_**  
  
**_[[ A lawyer's smug drawl, "Your honor, can we really allow a_ violent _youth like this to just stroll back into his everyday life? Into our peaceful community?" ]]_**  
  
Akira forced himself to refocus as Ryuji shook his head, then withdrew his hand into his lap. The boy continued, "That's not really anything I wanna talk about anymore. You just...needed to know, so you'd see where I'm comin' from with this next part.  
  
_I don't really want to drop it. But...I understand the feeling._  
  
"Down in that dungeon. I think I saw and heard kids from our school.  
  
"Kids from the volleyball team."  
  
He angrily squeezed his eyes shut. "So stupid. I don't know why I thought they'd be safe, just 'cause they're his favorite team. I'd hoped, I guess, once he'd got his friggin rocks off hurting me, he'd have had enough of it. Like, yeah, you showed you're tough, you killed our team, what more do you want?!  
  
"But now, I'm afraid..." he exhaled shakily "...that he never stopped." He looked up at Akira, clear resolve in his eyes. "I need to know, Akira. Like, who he's doing this to, how bad it is. Y'know? Not just for them, but for me too. I need to make sure this is really finished. So," he finished firmly, "with or without you, I'm goin' back to that palace place tomorrow after school.  
  
"But...I really hope it's with you."  
  
_With me?_  
  
Akira's heart raised slightly.  
  
_Maybe...I really am making a friend out of this_.  
  
Ryuji laughed ruefully. "It's partially 'cause I don't know how to get back. And you were friggin tough in there!"  
  
_Right, that makes sense. Still.._  
  
His friend's eyebrows raised. "But--but don't worry, I won't be helpless there again! I've got a plan for that. Anyway..." Expectantly, "Can I count on you?"  
  
_Can he?_  
  
Akira shut his eyes to think.  
  
_Have I ever been someone to be counted on, before all of this?_  
  
_I have so much on my plate right now. Honestly, I don't know if I'm going to survive the night, after Sakura-san finds out about my tardiness._  
  
_But...that resolve I found, with my "other self."_  
  
_He's--I'm--whatever, it was right._  
  
_I'm not going to just sit back and watch others be destroyed._  
  
Akira nodded decisively.  
  
_Another choice locked in. So be it._  
  
He smiled at the boy who was fidgeting beside him, waiting for an answer. "Of course. I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'll do what I can. I have an...idea about how to get back there that we can try out tomorrow afternoon." A hand in his pocket fingered his cellphone thoughtfully, the image of a bright red eye burning in his mind.  
  
Ryuji's face opened up with relief, and a brief flash of genuine unbridled joy.  
  
_Wow, he looks...so much friendlier when you subtract the stress and the thunderclouds._ _I wonder if that is what track-star-Ryuji looked like all the time?_  
  
His friend pumped a fist into the air, and shouted, "Yes! Heck yeah, man! He's goin' **down!** "  
  
_I want to help him look like that more often._  
  
Akira reddened slightly, catching himself.  
  
_Wait, what?_

 _Ugh, stop it Akira. That is way too corny, and you just met--_  
  
They were both startled by the voice that bellowed from the courtyard below, **"Hey, who's up there?"**  
  
In unison, the boys stared at each other, and whisper-shouted "Oh, shit!"  
  
Akira helped Ryuji off the bench, and the pair scrambled toward the door to escape before the person the voice belonged to caught up with them. Together, they laughed quietly as they made their way out of the school.  
  
_I don't know what I've gotten myself into. But this..._  
  
Akira smiled at Ryuji's back as he strode toward the train station.  
  
_This doesn't feel bad._


	5. Caffeine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fluffy at the end, here. Not everything is as frightening as it seems. Sojiro is, as always, truly dreadful at actually staying mad.

The dishevelled boy, exhausted after a long, bizarre, and painful day, trudged toward the door of his new temporary home as slowly as he could. Procrastinating, he toed every gap in the sidewalk as he passed.  
  
_Step on a crack..._  
  
He ground his foot down impulsively.  
  
_....break your mother's back._  
  
_Ugh. Immature, Akira._  
  
Realizing that he probably looked strange to any passersby, and that he'd be spending a year sharing a tiny neighborhood with anyone who might be watching (and judging), he forced himself to pick up the pace, despite his reservations.  
  
**_Holy crap_** _do I need time to process everything that happened today._  
  
_I'm not even remotely ready to walk in that door right now._  
  
In the end, despite his best attempts at turning the stroll from the train station into the world's slowest marathon, he did, indeed, make it "home."  
  
An idle flicker of hope entered his mind.  
  
_Maybe Sakura-san will be busy with the cafe, and I can just sneak up to the attic and deal with the inevitable after closing time?_  
  
Akira tried to creak the door to Le Blanc open as soundlessly as possible, only to be betrayed cheerfully by the bell.  
  
_Well, shit. Note to self, research folding ladders for future attic infiltrations._  
  
"A little late, don't you think? But then I hear that's your modus operandi."  
  
_Or not. **What** future?_  
  
_I'd like to crawl in a hole and die now, please._  
  
His host stood behind the cafe's counter, eyeing him coolly. The man's lips were pursed so tightly that Akira thought they might shrivel and disappear entirely if he dared to smile at him.  
  
_Try it, I **dare** you. _  
  
_What the fuck? No, brain. I can't die, I have shit to do tomorrow._  
  
Akira remained frozen in the doorway, caught in the world's most uncomfortable staring contest, until Sakura crooked a finger in a clear (but subtle enough to go unnoticed by his customers) "come here," motion.  
  
He obeyed, gut churning.  
  
_This is it._  
  
_I'm done._  
  
"Sakura-san, I--the train, uh--"  
  
The man halted him with an outstretched hand and a look that clearly stated a droll, "Really, kid?"  
  
Compliant, Akira shut his mouth.  
  
_Maybe it is better this way. Better for it to be ruined now than halfway through the year._  
  
Hands trembling, heart pounding, Akira braced himself.  
  
_What kind of life will I be able to make for myself minus a high school graduation? I can't go home, but I...do I have a choice? I..._  
  
Sakura opened his mouth to speak, but paused as he seemed to catch a glimpse of the boy's shaking fists. He frowned.  
  
_Ahh, hands in pockets, Akira! You can't show---_  
  
The man turned away, almost as if he were giving the boy a shred of privacy. A hot flush of embarrasment shot through Akira's body, joining the chill of fear in a sickly soup of discomfort. Still, a part of him was relieved that Sakura was evidently going to ignore the weakness he'd let slip through.  
  
_Or maybe he just doesn't want to look at me when he tells me to grab my shit and leave._  
  
Akira watched the man warily, searching for any sign, _any_ , of how this was going to go.  
  
_He just looks_  
_..._  
_disappointed._  
  
Leaning against the counter, his back to his customers for the moment, Sojiro Sakura began, in a quiet rumble, "Frankly, Akira, I don't want or need to hear the story. I gathered enough from the officer who called me this afternoon to inform me of your truancy. As I told you yesterday, making this work is _your_ responsibility, not mine."  
  
A deep sigh. "But," he continued, firmly but calmly, "I'd recommend not allowing it to happen again. I, for one, wouldn't want to have to be the one to explain to your family why you're back on a train out of Tokyo, having lost all prospects for your future."  
  
"I..." Akira began, then cut himself off, confused.  
  
_Wait, is that it?_  
  
His guardian sighed, shook his head, and then pointed toward a refrigerator in the rear of the cafe. "There's a plate for you in there. Eat, wash the dish, then get out of my sight and do something....student-like. For your own sake."  
  
_That's....really it._  
  
Akira's hands shot to his face to hide an irrepressable smile of relief. He was almost dizzy from whiplash between his expectations and the letdown of reality, but he could work with it, even if it didn't seem real.  
  
A mishmash of relieved nonsense bubbled out of the exhausted boy. "Y...yes! Sakura-san. Yeah! I'll do something student-y. Homework! That kind of...student. Stuff. That I can do."  
  
_Ugh. Idiot._  
  
_Were those even words? What in the world?_  
  
His ears reddened as the man stared at him, but he could almost let himself believe he'd seen a trace of a wry smile attempting to break through the line of Sakura's lips.  
  
_Guess that's still better than he expected from me?_  
_Honestly, I'll take it!_  
  
He reheated the plate (more curry), and ate at the counter in silence, eyes flickering up periodically to watch his host at work.  
  
_I need to know what kind of person I'm dealing with. I thought....he was so gruff. And he knows my parents. Or their....friends?_  
  
He grimaced at his knees.  
  
_Maybe he let me off so easily because he just doesn't care either way what happens to me. But..._  
  
From what Akira could see, the man was a complete professional. While he avoided any deep conversations with his customers (completely brushing off comments regarding the news broadcast playing on the small wall-mounted TV in the corner), he still seemed to connect with the denizens of his self-made slice of heaven on his own unique level.  
  
In the space of less than a half-hour, Akira witnessed Sakura:  
  
• ready a tired salaryman's coffee for him before he even hit the counter,  
  
• "accidentally" leave the crossword for the more pompous national news publication open on the table of a regular customer who enjoyed showing off his "knowledge" of trivia,  
  
• and suavely shoot-down-but-never-quite-kill the amused flirting of middle-aged women who clearly wanted more from him than his proprietary coffee blends.  
  
Here, Sakura seemed to say, there was one undeniable truth: Customer service was a dance best tread in comfortable loafers and a knowing smile. Somehow, his host held each of these threads in his mind, all while operating a kitchen and coffee bar singlehandedly with a smoothness that made it look like the most simple kind of magic.  
  
_I guess for these people, Sakura-san and Le Blanc must be one of those places that make their neighborhood feel like "home."_  
  
_I wish..._  
  
Akira fiddled with his fork. He was finished, but not quite ready to get up and leave the warmth of the main cafe.  
  
_I want to know what that feels like._  
  
He glanced up to watch Sakura prepare a more complicated coffee drink, doing some sort of magic with a carefully tilted metal cup and a frothing milk steamer. Akira had never drank anything other than basic instant coffee (and only a few desperate and disgusted sips of that), so he had no real reference for what was being brewed. But...  
  
_...whatever it is, it smells wonderful._  
  
Sakura met his eyes, and, gaze narrowed, seemed to think for a moment. Gruffly, he asked, "What?"  
  
Startled by being caught, Akira sputtered, "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I was--I was just trying to figure out what you were making."  
  
Nonplussed, the man replied, "What, you've never seen a latte before? They're not what _I_  specialize in, but they aren't exactly a mystery."  
  
Sheepishly, Akira admitted his that repertoire consisted of instant coffee and instant coffee with milk in it. A look of genuine horror and pity _(Hey! Akira thought, It isn't_ that _bad!)_ flashed across his guardian's face, only to be replaced with fond calculation.  
  
He handed the latte over to its new owner, then settled his elbows onto the counter to loom over Akira. "Well, that's simply unacceptable. I can't have someone taking up a constant seat in this cafe who doesn't even know the basics."  
  
_What's going on here?_  
  
"Well, Sakura-san, what do you suggest?"  
  
_Oh. Does he need me to get back up in the attic?_

_I guess I wouldn't want someone like me taking up this space forever either._

_I wish I hadn't drawn attention to myself. Maybe I could have stayed another few minutes._

Akira began to gather his dishes together regretfully. But, to his surprise, Sakura made no motion to shoo him away.  
  
Instead, the man continued to peer down at him thoughtfully, tapping a single rough index finger on the countertop before him. He looked like he was, privately, coming to some sort of decision.  
  
Finally, he nodded to himself slightly, then declared, "Well, you're still lurking down here, and you clearly need to be kept busy. Tell you what. Wash your dish, and then stay back there to clean the rest of them for a while. As payment, I'll make you a cup of the best coffee you'll have ever had in your life."  
  
_Well. That's.  Not what I expected.  But....?_

He stared into the void.  The void stared back.  It was, evidently, well-caffeinated.

 _What kind of deal is that?? I don't even like coffee._  
  
_Still, it isn't like I can refuse, can I?_  
  
The amused look in his guardian's eye seemed to mirror that sentiment.  
  
"Uh, of course, Sakura-san." He pushed his way up out of the stool he was seated on and carried his dishes to the sink in the back, preparing himself for an evening of work and weird, bitter-bean-juice induced jitters. As he scurried back there, Akira swore he heard the man mutter, _"Instant coffee! Not under_ my _roof."_  
  
_÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷_  
  
_[[ An hour and a half later.....a certain boy's hands shook for an entirely new reason...._  
  
_Oh my god. I love coffee. Coffee is now my life, and I shall sacrifice my firstborn child to the bean-juice gods in repentance for my instant coffee sacrilege._  
  
_Bring on the dishes!_  
  
_"Sakura-san! If I wash them faster, do I get to try a latte?!"_  
  
_Bemused, a goateed man replied, "Wash them_ better _, not_ faster _. And no, no you do not. ]]_  
  
_÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷_  
  
_[[ Six hours later....a boy tossed and turned in the dark, willing himself to rest for the day ahead._  
  
_Oh my god. Coffee does not love me. I may never sleep again. Ours is a cruel romance._  
  
_....Thanks, Sakura-san._  
  
_A smile erupted, hidden safely in the midnight gloom._  
  
_A pearl of trust began to form in a boy's heart. ]]_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Role to Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji has no concept of ~personal space~
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry, I know I took ages to update!

The next morning, Akira found himself woefully unprepared to greet the day. He threw a slender arm over his eyes to block the sunlight streaking in from the attic's dust-stained window, unsure of whether he wanted to remember or shove away his memories of what he had experienced in the dream--no, apparently not now or _ever_ quite a dream-- of the Velvet Room last night.

He rolled over in bed, trying to eke out even one more minute of rest, but a particularly evil morning bird belting out its insistent song made that impossible.

"FINE! Fine, you little shit. I'm up. I'm up." He sat up in bed and banged his fist on the window, trying to chase the far-too-cheerful creature away. Unsuccessfully, of course.

_I'm up, but I don't even remotely want to be. I finally fall asleep an hour before dawn, and THAT is what I get?_

He remembered....

_[[ Hours before, a jittery boy stole a scrap of sleep in the latest hour possible, and that was all that was necessary. Once again, he was stolen from reality._

_In his own mind's eye, he reawoke as a prisoner in a dream he couldn't deny, now, having dreamt before._

But after what I experienced today in that "cognitive world," I wonder if this "Velvet Room" isn't a part of it? Does that make it real?

_Two pairs of bright yellow eyes glittered beyond the confines of his dream-world cell door. Watching, evaluating, and evidently finding him lacking. A baton wielded by a deceptively tiny fist slammed into thick iron bars in a flash. "INMATE!" bellowed a small girl, her pale grey hair restrained in twin buns in a way that her ire could never be._

What was her name?? _Akira wracked his mind for information that he had previously brushed away as inconsequential._ Oh, right--

_"C--Caroline! So. You're real, in some way, aren't you?"_

_Sensing danger, he reflexively stepped as far back from the bars as his chains would allow as the twin's brow wrinkled angrily._

_Indignantly, Caroline shouted, "Of course we are real! How rude! Do you really think that your puny mind could dream up this level of perfection?"_

_From the shadows her sister spoke up, a hint of amusement in her much gentler voice. "Why our master permits such insolence, I do not know." As she shook her head, her braided hair swayed behind her like a fluid silver snake._

She may be quieter.....but I don't think she's really any less dangerous. Her name was....Jus....Justice? No, Justine. And, their master....

_Akira gulped, and raised his eyes to the creature he'd been irreverently remembering as "that weird troll."_

Igor. So Igor is real too.

 _Igor tilted its head from behind a desk (the solitary piece of furniture that Akira could see past the confines of his cell.) Its eyes (somehow Akira still could not bring himself to think_ "his" _eyes) flashed in the darkness, watching his interaction with the diminutive prison guards. ]]_

Akira limped out of bed, still sore from his exertions the previous day.

 _I am way too out of shape for this.  I guess that'll have to change. Right.  Because_ that's _simple._

He shook his head.

_And that room..._

_Somehow, having "guidance" through this isn't as comforting as you'd think._

His train ride to Shujin Academy was far less eventful than it had been the day before. No rain, no mystery girls, no cops, no castles.

Whispers still stalked him through the school _[[I heard he's secretly covered in tattoos! Well_ I _heard he's banned from ever setting foot in his hometown again!]],_ but other than a knowing nod from Ryuji as they passed once in the hall, there was absolutely no sign that anything out of the ordinary had ever taken place there.

For a few hours, Akira was able to bury himself in schoolwork and remember why he'd moved to Tokyo in the first place--to be a _normal freaking student._ Of course, he knew that wouldn't last the day, not that he fully regretted that fact. During his final class period, he found himself watching the clock tick, agonizingly, toward the final bell.

_Why am I so impatient? It honestly makes no sense._

Tick

Tick

....

Tick

_Do I actually want to fight again?_

Tick

Tick

In seconds that felt like hours, Akira was forced to examine himself. A week, hell, a _month_ prior, all he had been able to think about was the uncertainty of what he was jumping into, and the wild hope for a "normal" school year in Tokyo. But now.....

Tick.

_TICK._

_It probably isn't that I really want to_  fight.  _Right?  What kind of person actually_ wants  _to fight monsters?_ _I_ _just want to help Ryuji, that's all. I can't leave him hanging._

**_TICK_ **

  
**_TICK_ **

_And why is_ that _, I wonder? I barely know him._

**_//TICK//_ **

_I guess there's nothing like running for your life to bo---AHHH!_

He was startled from his focus on the clock, and his reverie, when something smacked him right between the eyes.

"GAHHH!"

He blinked furiously, aware that the entire classroom was now staring at him and, in many cases, snickering. The thing that had bounced off his face was now rolling merrily across the desktop before him. A pencil. A pencil, judging by the smug look emanating from his normally grim male teacher, that had been flung directly at his face by that same man.

 _What the fuck? I know I was distracted, but that's_ not _okay!! What the hell is_ wrong _with this school?!_

His ears red, he gripped the pencil in his fist, strode briskly to the front of the room, held out the offending writing implement, and snarked, through gritted teeth, "I think you dropped this, _sir."_ As he did it, he was fully aware that he was making a mistake, and that awareness was reinforced by the silence that fell over the classroom as every eye turned to witness how the man would respond.

_But still....I....AGHHH_

A vein pulsed in his teacher's forehead, and his mouth flopped open uselessly.

_Heh. He looks like an indignant trout._

Blessedly, the clock chose that moment to reward Akira's earlier attention, the bell rang, and the boy dropped the pencil on a nearby podium, turned on his heel, and fled the classroom before the man could muster a response.

As he rounded the corner and his feet pounded down the stairs, the gravity of what he'd just done began to set in, and his mouth went dry.

_Why why why did I do that?_

His hands trembled, and he smacked one against the other angrily, trying to stop the tremor.

_This isn't your old town, Akira. And you aren't the "good" kid who can get away with that shit anymore!_

He exited through a side door, and leaned against an exterior wall heavily.

_Stupid!_

_....stupid._

_But....._

A smirk threatened to break through the edge of his lips, though he did his best to suppress it.

_It was kind of great._

He grabbed a great tuft of his own fluffy black hair in self-exasperation.  He still didn't feel great, but he could find a way to shake this off.  He has a responsibility to follow through on today, after all.

_Why am I such a little shit? Guess I really am ready for the "delinquents club."  Ha._

**"HEY! Akira!"**

_Speak of the devil._

Ryuji waved to him frantically from the school gates, then gestured toward the alley that Akira knew far too well by now. Other students turned to state at the both of them, drawn by the frenetic blur of teenager channeling the energy of about seven excited golden retrievers to get his friend's attention.

_Well, if they weren't staring at me yet...._

Akira sighed, but chuckled. He waved back, a lazy two-fingered salute, and sauntered through the gates to their meeting place.

_If standing out is unavoidable....guess I might as well stand out in style from now on. "Accept my fate," right?_

_Back to what I was thinking, before the pencil incident.....I think I have to accept that my hopes and plans for Tokyo were surprisingly unrealistic._

_"Work with what you have."  Does that apply when "what you have" is a vendetta to be carried out against an abusive teacher, in what is apparently his own brain?_

_Well.  It does if I say it does._

He spun on his heel and, finger-guns ablaze, greeted Ryuji with a grin. "Hey there! Ready to pop back into the horrifying mind of our P.E. teacher and maybe be killed by monsters?"

"Well, _you're_ in a good mood today! And, hell yeah!" The boy thought for a second, then grimaced. "Except, uh, maybe scratch that last part. So I take it you're ready to try this shit?" He fidgeted, kicking gravel idly. "At least I sure hope you are, 'cause like, I'm ready to go in and all, but I have no friggin clue how to get there."

Akira nodded, and took his phone from his pocket. "Yeah, I have an idea at least."

Ryuji's eyes lit up. "OHHH, that's right! You had some kinda navigation app up yesterday, right? I heard it, with that weird "return to the real world" shit. You think you can find the way there?"

A shrug. "It's worth a try, right?"

For the first time, his finger hovered _willingly_ over the strange app that had appeared on his phone when he first arrived in Tokyo. The one with the icon of a blazing red eye. He had tried to delete it several times, but it always reappeared. Sometimes he swore the icon came back just _pixels_ larger, likely out of pure spite.

He took a breath and tapped the touchscreen, aware of Ryuji looming over his shoulder, watching his every movement.

"Hey! I know that app!" he yelled in Akira's ear in astonishment.  A smartphone darted over Akira's shoulder to wave in his face, showing off an identical red eye smothered by what looked a thousand other disorganized icons.

_He still has all of the weird preloaded apps on his homescreen?  Is Ryuji like....technologically illiterate or something?_

_Uh._

_Rude, Akira._

_And not the_ important _bit of info to take from that._

"When did that appear?"

"It just showed up yesterday. I don't know where it came from, man, I swear I didn't download it."

"If it's like mine, you won't be able to remove it either. Huh. So, if this works, then it turns out you would have been able to go here on your own after all."

A small intake of breath hissed behind him, and Ryuji receded. "Uhh, yeah, I guess so. So d'you...." The boy gripped his phone in his hand, arm dangling at his side. "Do you not wanna go then? I mean, I know this isn't your..."

_Oh, crap, I can see how what I said would sound--!_

"That's not what I meant!" Akira exclaimed. "No, I'm in this, as...as long as you want me to! I just thought that maybe _you_ wouldn't want....uhhh...."

Ryuji's face lit up with relief, and any lingering doubts Akira had were laid to rest, at least for now. "What? No, man, of course I want you to come with! We're some kinda team now, right??"

A nod. "Yeah!"

_A team..._

"Okay, anyway, this app....uhh....I see Kamoshida's name here on the location entry screen. Kamoshida.....pervert....castle....Shujin Academy. So, I'll just click that and--who-oaaaaaa--!"

A wave of force blew through them, and a familiar headache returned.

_Guess it wasn't the weather. Huh._

"Hey, Akira! Your clothes!"

He looked down to see his hands once again covered in red leather.

_I changed....? And....the world changed too!_

He glanced quickly around to take in the differences. At first, they were small. Almost indistinguishable. A nearby puddle remaining from an evening rainstorm seemed slightly....iridescent now? Dust was kicked up and carried by the wind, but seemed vaguely wrong when tracked by his eyes.

_What is this wrongness? A hair's breadth too slow? Movement just slightly unnatural?_

_This world is like...how florescent lighting always seems just barely "off" when compared to natural sunlight. By all accounts, it should function just the same, but when you turn your head, from the corner of your eye, it seems to flicker and show just a touch of wrongness..._

_Maybe that explains the headaches._

He raised his eyes (once again covered by his thin, sharp mask) to the castle before them, and found himself surprisingly unstartled by its appearance.

"Ryuji. We're here."


	7. Normalcy/Who is "Me?"

The wind was cold and strangely acrid as Akira tried to settle back into his own skin after he found it unceremoniously re-clothed in the dramatic black formalwear that seemed to belong exclusively to this cognitive world.

Kamoshida's castle loomed before them, but before they could move in its direction the boys suddenly found themselves accosted by a blur of angry black fur.

_!!_  
_So, Morgana is here too._

Their certainly-probably-human acquaintance from the previous day's misadventure spat venemously at Ryuji. " _YOU!_ I've been waiting for ages! So you _finally_ decided to show up and fulfill your promise. Well, better late than nev--"

Ryuji held his hands out defensively, backing up from the irate creature. "Hey!  Hold on now, cat, I didn't promise shit!" the boy argued, clearly thrown off by the unexpected verbal assault.

Akira didn't understand what Ryuji had against Morgana, (he'd helped them, after all) but he had to admit that having their plans already derailed in this way didn't seem to be a good omen.

_Is there a way to turn this around?_

_Um.._

_Flattery?_

He strode toward the warring pair, trying to exude calm and reasonableness.

"I, uh, seem to have missed whatever 'promise' was made, but I'm really glad to see you, Morgana."

He knelt down to avoid towering over his dimunitive companion. "You were an excellent mentor yesterday, and we never would have made it out of there without you. So, thank you. I'm truly grateful." He held out a hand to shake (it seemed like the appropriate thing to do), and Morgana begrudgingly accepted it.

Slightly mollified, Morgana set his bulbous blue eyes on Akira and replied, "Well, of course you are." He released Akira's hand from his paw, then went on. "So, you're back here, then. Just couldn't stay away, am I right?"

"It's not like that...." Ryuji grumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Akira shook his head gently. "We have a, ahh....mission of sorts here today. We need to get back into the dungeons. Will you help us?"

"Help us? Uhh Akira, do we really need--"

"Ryuji, just.....shhh." Akira hushed his cranky friend.

_Please._

_Please let Morgana agree to help. I know Ryuji is all fired up, but I'm anxious about being the only fighter in this.  I know Ryuji has some sort of "plan" to help fight, but honestly that's more alarming than comforting at this point._

Morgana appeared to be carefully considering his request, but Akira suspected that he was faking at least half of that "thinking time" to draw out dramatic tension.

Finally, with a toss of his head that flung the tails of his vividly yellow scarf into the air, the creature smugly replied, "Well, you two _clearly_ need someone more experienced to guide you. _I'm_ a kind soul who couldn't possibly let you wander aimlessly to your death, so I'll agree to help you, _IF-_ -" (and with this he turned critically to Ryuji) "--you promise to help me in return! I have a mission of my own after all."

Ryuji moved to protest, but quieted when Akira held out a hand to still him and nodded. "That seems fair. You don't seem the sort to ask us to do anything....morally wrong after all, right?"

Indignantly, Morgana insisted, "Of course not! I may be a phantom thief, but I'm a crusader for justice!"

_A little campy...ha. But honestly that's comforting. And kind of endearing. I'll take corny and direct over the shady maliciousness I've seen from adults lately, 100%._

Ryuji sighed. "Ehhh.....works for me I guess. Can we just hurry up and get out of the open? I don't know how long we can be here, and we have important shit to do."

"Ryuji is right. Morgana, do you know the quickest path to the dungeons?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_[[ As a trio of adventurers traversed the guts of a disgusting prison to bear witness to the fantasies of someone unsuited to the title of "teacher" or "coach," in after-school reality, the energy of those same fantasies was borne out, cruelly and insidiously._

_A boy with midnight-blue hair faltered in practice and was pelted brutally in the knee by a volleyball, which left a dark, shiny bruise in its wake. It ached, but he held back tears as he lowered himself onto one of the gymnasium's rough wooden benches. It'd only be worse if he cried._

_A student dared to ask for water, and was made to run until he fainted, dizzy from dehydration.  He could have sworn that, in that last moment, someone tripped him.  But no...he was woozy.  He must have imagined it. He's just too much of a weakling, after all._

_A kind girl who tried to help an exhausted peer was shouted down, and told to stop in the "coach's" office after practice to discuss her place on the starting lineup in light of her "lack of commitment to the program."  Afterwards, she was witnessed (by one of her teammates) rushing from the school into the darkness of the encroaching evening, lower lip trembling with repressed emotion.... ]]_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The small team exited the castle's disturbing "training grounds," all clearly on edge from what they had observed. Their footsteps tapped a quiet rhythm as they made their way through the nearly pitch black halls, each temporarily lost in their own head.

_I feel so helpless, having to walk away from that. It feels like I'm just allowing other kids to be tortured._

_Made to run endlessly without rest, beaten and bruised by sporting equipment. And the rest....What I saw....it makes me want to vomit._

_But after all that, we can't intervene here._

_It turns out there's no point._

"Ugh. I can't believe that I made you come down here for kids who weren't even _real_." Ryuji broke the silence to mumble, his ears red from frustration and embarrassment.

Serious, Akira turned to him. "Hey, I thought they were real too. If we could get here, others could too, right? It was worth the risk if even one other student was kept prisoner here like we were yesterday."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Besides," Morgana piped up, "the basic premise for today's infiltration may have been flawed, but it was far from a waste for you. You gathered valuable Intel, correct?"

Akira was grateful to see Ryuji perk up at that. "Yeah!" the blonde boy exclaimed. "I memorized the faces of all of those fake kids being tortured in the dungeons. All guys, which is pretty weird, but they should be easy to track down.

 _All guys? That_ is _strange. It is a coed team, right?..._

Akira shivered slightly, struck with a vague sense of unease. 

Ryuji continued, "If he's doing that to them here, he's gotta be abusin' those same kids in real life too, right?"

_That's right._

_They_ are  _real._

_They just aren't **here**._

Akira's sense of wrongness deepened, and his gut twisted with worry.

Downcast, Morgana agreed with Ryuji, "Sadly, that's probably true...."

"Well then, all we have to do is find the kids I saw, and get them to talk about what's happening! Then we'll get Kamoshida."

"It might not be that easy to get them to talk, Ryuji..."

_I know I....I wouldn't want to speak up._  
_If I'm being honest with myself._

"They want it to end though, right, Akira? Somebody's gotta talk!"

"But, remember your track team...sometimes it is hard to speak out about horrible things, as counterintuitive as it may seem."

"Yeah....I guess so, man. But...." Ryuji flailed, his eyes hardened with resolve. "We can't just give up!"

"No." Akira shook his head. "We'll try, I promise. Tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

They were startled by Morgana shouting, "Hey, we've got company!"

Sure enough, a shadow approached. Akira fell into a fighting stance as Ryuji readied the model gun he had brought along.

_His grand plan to be helpful in the fight today -- but hey, it actually worked! Who would have imagined a world where a model gun would fire real bullets, simply because the monsters believe it will?_

After an afternoon spent fighting their way down to the dungeons together, the three teammates had found a decent fighting rhythm, despite Ryuji's lack of a Persona.

After only a couple of rounds, the Pixie they were fighting was knocked to the ground, and Akira found himself staring down at the creature as it looked up at him with huge, bizarrely human eyes.

And then, of all things...

It _spoke_.

In a strangely lilting, breathy voice, it called up to him from where it was crumpled on the stone floor, wings trailing dejectedly. "~H-hey! It doesn't have to be like this, does it?"

_Is it.....pleading for its life? This is morbid and horrible. None of the others did this! What do I....what do I do?_

Slowly, trying to restrain his horror, Akira managed to spit out the question, "If it doesn't have to be like this, what other way is there?" A spark of hope appeared in the Pixie's previously resigned and empty eyes.

_How sentient are these shadows?_

_I've destroyed so many already._

_...Am I a murderer?_  
_N-no, it can't be._

"~Well.....hmm, you know, you seem really familiar to me! I can't put my finger on it, but I feel like we could be kindred spirits!"

_Me, "kindred spirits" with a shadow? ....No way._  
_No!_

**_~Yeah! Yeah, I know you, right? So I feel like this is okay._ **

_W.....wait, what is thi--_

**_~I am thou, thou art I!_ **

Before Akira could protest, or even brace himself, the Pixie coalesced into into a shining mask that rushed toward him and dove into his soul.

_Ahhhh!_

_You....._

_I can feel it._

Akira felt as though the already nebulous edges of his sense of identity had simultaneously broadened and contracted around a new hard, concrete edge. His heart felt lighter, yet bitter.

_~If I'm cheerful and pretty, I can get away with pretty much anything, right?_

_No, that's...._

**_Thou art I._ **

He staggered from the sensation of something new and jaded and bright gripping his heart. This sense of enthusiastic cynicism....

_It really is a part of me. Was it always? I can't....I can't remember if this feeling is new._

_Was I the same, five minutes ago?_

From the fringes of his awareness, Akira became conscious of Morgana absolutely losing his shit (to put it frankly) over what he had just done. He couldn't focus on his companion's glee, however, because another enemy was fast approaching.

_Already? I am so exhausted._

_But maybe....maybe I can channel this new strange sense of lightness. I can...._

**_"PIXIE!"_ **

Reaching into himself, he accepted his new power, summoning the Pixie he had just awoken to in place of Arsene. Ryuji and Morgana gaped.

"Wha....what is happening?"

"You summoned it! Wow, so you have that kind of power?! This will be beyond useful!"

_Useful, huh? Doing this....it feels like letting myself slip away, while losing my memory of just who, precisely, I was before. But, if it means that I'm more useful.....if I'll be better at keeping them alive--!_

Akira unleashed a gust of wind toward his unfortunate foe, knocking it down in time for Morgana to finish it easily.  A totally different form of mental energy was expended than the type he'd become used to through Arsene.

It felt....disturbingly natural.

_....I guess it is worth it._

_( and, deeper in his mind, a part of him chanting, [[it isn't murder, it isn't murder, it isn't m...]] )_

_~That's right! Even if you're uncomfortable, you should just smile and accept things that give you greater power!_

_If all I am is a blank slate that can be so easily impressed upon by accepting these shadows.....these things that are just manifestations of other pieces of consciousness....what does that make me....?_

_~What does it matter? As long as you're well liked, it is fine to be empty! Look how pleased your companions are!_

And, truly, they were. As they dusted themselves off post-battle, Morgana continued to gush about Akira's "incredible potential," while Ryuji punched his shoulder and yelled that he didn't quite get what the hell was going on, but "whatever that was, you seriously kicked ass!"

Seeing them so happy meant that Akira couldn't bring himself to try to explain how the very power they were celebrating left him feeling deeply unsettled and confused. He resolved instead to put a smirk on his face and act the part of the cocky and powerful person they clearly needed him to be. When it came to his true feelings....

_....I guess I'll process it privately later. I can wait. For now..._

"We should go."

Ryuji replied, "Right, we got the information that I needed, so we might as well get outta here. Don't worry, there's no way I'll forget the faces I saw!"

"Right! Okay. Ryuji, Morgana, lets head to the exit."

"Sure thing. Ha, hey man, when'd you get so damn cool?"

_I didn't._

"~Guess it just comes naturally!" He winked, of all things, before he fully realized what he was doing. It wasn't something he ever would have imagined himself doing, and for something like that it felt far too natural.

_I....that's not..._

It felt like muscle memory activating for something that he'd never practiced.

_Notice that wasn't like me. Ryuji._

_I know it is such a small thing.  I know you barely know me.  But....but notice that wasn't me!_

He couldn't put into words how important that need felt, crystallized in that moment. He just knew he desperately needed it.

_Ryuji._

But his friend just laughingly told him he was full of shit. "What a friggin show-off, haha. But hey, man, it's growing on me, what can I say?"

_Ryuji, that wasn't...._

_((I am thou. Thou art..._

_I.))_

_Was it me?_

_...._

Akira chuckled, and confidently turned to lead his friends back to the upper floor of the castle, knife in hand. "~Hey, what's the point of being this cool if you can't show it off?"

_((It's okay to be empty...))_

"Style _is_ the quintessential trademark of the Phantom Thief!" Morgana agreed amiably as they approached the final set of damp stone steps that would lead them out of the dungeons.

_((....if you're well-liked.))_

"Pshhh. Hey, I can be stylish too!" Ryuji interjected.

_((....if it lets you be what they need.))_

"Maybe in your dreams!"

" _Can it,_ cat!"

"I am _not_ a cat!!"

_((...then it's fine.))_

The whole exchange...It all felt too lullingly normal.

_((...and this is how I can be a part of that normalcy?..))_

Caught up in his thoughts, Akira lead them right through the castle's main foyer and, consequently, directly into a trap.


	8. Self-Preservation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% sure about this chapter, so I may work on it more at a later date. I do feel like everything in it is necessary, though. 🤔

_This is bad! How could I have been stupid enough to lead us into a battle like this, when we were already exhausted?!_

Akira winced, pain shooting up his legs as his knees slammed into the ground, downed by a vicious attack. Through vision blurred by pain, he glanced at Morgana, only to confirm that he wasn't faring any better against Kamoshida's golden knight.

_At this rate--!!_

On his other side, the "King" himself smugly mocked Ryuji, clearly beside himself with glee over their impending defeat. Ryuji, the last of his bullets long spent, was shaking in frustration and horror on the fringes of the battle, eyes downcast, teeth gritted in anger.

Kamoshida continued, strolling over to the boy like a predator that enjoyed playing with its prey. He chortled, "You simply came here on a whim, didn't you? You useless punk. You just strolled in here like you had the _right_ , and all you'll have accomplished..." Yellow eyes crinkled with delight, "...is ensuring the death of your friends here."

 _Our death....? No!_  
_If we all die here, then what was the point of any of this?!_

"Ryuji, get back! _Run_!"

To his right, Morgana coughed out, "He's right! There's nothing you can do! Get...out of here! Live...another....day..."

Akira tried to right himself, drawing on every remaining reserve of energy he could muster, but it was useless. He was simply too drained by the drawn out battle, too soon after a day spent dungeon-crawling. He braced himself, hands on floor, only to collapse as a heavy boot ground itself into his back.

Involuntarily, he cried out in pain, "Aaaaah!!" Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. The weight of the knight's armored body was so great that he struggled to breathe beneath it. Still, he wheezed, "Ryu...ji...... _Go_....."

"You see their pain, Sakamoto? You know that this is _your_ fault, right?"

 _Useless._  
_Am I already....unable to protect anyone?_

Struggling to make sense of the scene before him through double-vision, Akira watched in horror as Kamoshida continued to advance toward his friend. Why wouldn't Ryuji flee?!

_Get out, get out!_

_At least use the information you have now..._  
_Make this worth something!_

_Go...._

"No."

As if in answer to Akira's mental pleas, a tremulous voice cut through the violence-charged air.

"Heh, do you really---"

**"NO!"**

Surer, now. A voice not trembling from fear, but with sheer fury.

Akira's eyes finally focused, and through oxygen-deprived tunnel vision, zeroed in on his friend....who was no longer simply standing his ground.

Ryuji took one heavy step forward, then another. He shook his head viciously, clawing at the air, face twisted in agony.

_What is happening to him?! Could he be.....?_

**"I won't let piece-of-shit adults run my life anymore! Not if there's a chance I can do something about it!"**

In a flash of molten mercury, a silver skull appeared over Ryuji's eyes, seemingly fused to his skin. Akira looked on in morbid fascination, slowly becoming sure of what was happening. Similar to what he'd experienced, his friend's entire body had been clothed in something dark and furious, representative of his own desire for rebellion.

 _So, it's begun for him as well--!_  
_He looks like a demon. Is that what I looked like? This...this is horrible. But..._

Frantic hands scrabbled at the edges of new power, feeling, working, _tearing, **rending**_

_But wonderful._

_So, then. I won't be alone._

With a gout of blood, Ryuji raggedly ripped the mask from his face, chest heaving with emotion.

**"Whatever power you think you've got? I'm gonna take it, and I'm gonna ruin it. Come on, now -- _Captain Kidd!_ "**

His own blood still dripping from his hands, Ryuji pointed a leather-sheathed finger in challenge. An aura of vicious joy emanated from the boy as his Persona flared into being. The force of its appearance barreled into their enemies like a cannonball, knocking them to their knees.

Kamoshida, not weighted to the floor by armor, was blown to the base of the foyer's sweeping rear staircase. Not one to overlook an opportunity to turn tail and flee, his royal cloak quickly swept the steps to the upper floor as he shouted down to his subordinates in a panic, "You--you crush them! Do you understand?! Destroy them!"

He escaped into the gloom of the castle's second story in time to miss the sight of his golden knight being crushed into the floor by the pirate captain's ship, a manic grin on the face of Ryuji's undead sailor.

The defeated shadow dissolved into a puddle of darkness and then nothing.

_He....he did it!_

Now freed of crushing weight, and having had a chance to regain a scrap of stamina, Akira rolled into his back on the castle's surpisingly soft carpet and breathed deeply, staring up at the ceiling.

 _Not alone..._  
_~ But not special either, right? Not anymore._

He shook his head at the unexpected glimmer of bitterness.

_Not "special" is a good thing in this situation. Cut it out, brain._

After a moment, a concerned Morgana loomed above him, peering into his line of vision. "Hey, are you alright? That was quite the battle."

As Akira forced himself into a sitting position, Morgana continued seriously, "While that was a very dangerous situation, this certainly is a breakthrough. To think that _he_ would be a Persona user as well! It'll be useful, that's for sure."

Between the two of them and the entrance, Ryuji waited, hunched over from exhaustion, hands on his thighs. Heavily, he exhaled, "Hey, don't be so...so surprised, ca--uh--Morgana." He stood up, wobbling slightly on his feet. "Of....of course I can kick ass!"

His eyes made their way to Akira on the floor, and his brows furrowed with concern. "Hey dude, you okay? You really took a beating there. Man...." his eyes fell. "I'm sorry it took me so long to be able to jump in there. If I'd been able to help sooner..."

_He really is worried about me, huh?_

Akira struggled to his feet, although breathing was still painful. Doing his best to ignore it, he strode toward his friend, hand out reassuringly. "No, Ryuji, don't beat yourself up. You came through, and you saved us in the end." He smiled, throwing an arm around the boy's shoulder as he reached him. "It was pretty badass."

"Right?!" Ryuji lit up enthusiastically from the compliment. "I'm totally into this mask, too. And Captain Kidd? How friggin awesome." He paused, momentarily awkward. "I, uhh. I dunno about all of this leather though, it's kinda.....uh....d'ya think its....too....?"

He fidgeted, twisting from side to side in the _extremely_ tight leather jumpsuit.

"Too.....?" From the corner of his eye, Akira suspected he'd seen Ryuji trying his best to subtly pick a leather wedgie. Awkward. He reddened, and averted his eyes. "Uh....no, dude! It all fits together really well--uh I mean it fits you...um..."

 _Oh my god that's not how I'm trying to come across._  
_Whyyyy_

Finally, he spit out, "I mean it really goes well with the whole theme! It just--it looks cool."

"You think so? Well....thanks, man!"  Ryuji was apparently oblivious to Akira's fretting.

_Thank friggin god._

Crisis averted, Akira turned to Morgana. "Hey. Are you ready to get out of here?"

He nodded briskly. "Absolutely. There's no way we would stand up to another attack. Even for him--" he gestured with one paw toward Ryuji "--it seems that awakening to a Persona causes quite an extreme level of exhaustion."

Ryuji agreed ruefully. "Yeah, you've got that right. I hate to admit it, but I'm friggin beat."

Together, they strode out into the orange light of late afternoon. As they approached the far gates, Morgana inquired hopefully, "So, will the two of you be returning here tomorrow?"

Slightly guilty, knowing they'd made a promise to help Morgana (while not having quite determined the parameters of said promise), Akira shook his head. "Tomorrow we need to rest. But, also, we need to make use of the information we gained today."

"Yeah. We've gotta track down the kids from the volleyball team that Kamoshida's been abusing." Ryuji chimed in.

Morgana sighed, but without any real ire behind it. "I can understand that. Honestly, I could use a rest myself." He waved goodbye, and exited ahead of the other two.

_So, does that mean he does exist in the real world?  Is that what he means when he says he's a human?  Morgana really is a mystery._

As Akira rode the train home to Le Blanc, he turned the events of that day over in his mind.

_Today....I took in another Persona, and Ryuji awakened to his own. I wonder what it feels like, for him?_

_Is it the same...?_

_Does he feel just as empty? Or is that a pain that's strictly reserved for me?_

His hands gripped the pole he was balanced against, having not been able to find a seat.

 _I hope.....I hope it is easier for him._  
_Maybe, if he just keeps Captain Kidd? For me, Arsene feels right. Having him....feels like having a stronger grip on my own spirit. It's adding something from outside of myself into the mix that..._

Akira shook his head.

_If Captain Kidd feels for him like Arsene does for me, I'm sure he'll do fine. He has to._

Still, he found himself torn emotionally between relief that he now had a friend in this (Morgana couldn't fully count, in his mind, since he never seemed to manifest outside of 'that world') and guilt over that same relief. That, and chagrin over the brief, bitter fragment of jealousy he had experienced after the battle.

 _I can't allow myself to feel that way. Even if....even if he doesn't need me anymore, now that he can fight too...I have to trust that he'll still_ want _me in this fight._

_Because....we really are friends, right?_

Akira replayed the memory of Ryuji's worried face, staring down at him from across the castle foyer. His relief when he had been able to drag himself to his feet. Their camaraderie, arms around each other's shoulders.

He smiled, reassured.

_Right._

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

_[[ In the pitch black night, an exhausted boy slipped into a world that was gradually becoming more commonplace to him._

_Chained to an iron ball in a familiar jail cell, he greeted his apparent captors once more._

_"Hello Caroline....Justine."_

_The twins stared down at him with a sense of anticipation that he found, frankly, terrifying._

_What had he fallen into tonight?_

_Justine spoke up. "Good evening, inmate. It seems that you have awoken to a new power." A sly smile spread across her usually-gentle face. "One that we, as it happens, can assist you with."_

_Although she was clearly trying to present this as a positive, Akira felt oddly uneasy. Perhaps because the inhabitants of this room seemed to take an uncomfortable amount of pleasure from his own discomfort._

_"What....what new power?"_

_"Don't play **dumb** , inmate!" Caroline's baton slammed into the bars of his cell door. The girl scowled at him. "You gained new power today! A new mask!"_

_Justine nodded beside her. "Yes. This is a power unique to you."_

_((Unique....to me? So I'm the only one who can draw in the power of the shadows in this way?_

_So...I'm alone after all.))_

_And, some small quiet corner of his mind whispered,_  
_((~ So I **am** special. And that means I still have something that only I can give to them. ))_

_The quieter girl continued, "As the holder of the wild card, you can hold within yourself any variety of Persona. This is truly a powerful gift."_

_Her sister chimed in, "But someone like you could never master this power on your own! Lucky for you," she added, smugly, "we are here to guide you through it. Specifically, the process of Persona fusion."_

_Akira startled slightly. Brow furrowed, he repeated, "Fusion?"_

_Clipboard tucked beneath her arm, Justine began to pace before his cell door, clearly content to offer a lecture. "You'll never be able to reach your full potential, inmate, if you confine yourself to merely those Personae that fall into your lap. There is a huge amount of power awaiting you, if you dare to seek it." Barely turning her face, she stared him down from the corner of her eye. "That's where we come in. First, you'll need to hand those two Personae over to us."_

_Akira's gut churned, uncertain of where this was heading but sure, despite that uncertainty, that he wasn't going to like it._

_((Hand over that Pixie.....and....and Arsene?! But Arsene is **me** , isn't he? Is that even possible?))_

_"I...."_

_He cringed._

_"But....."_

_The twins were visibly unimpressed by his hesitation._

_"How dare you treat us so rudely!" Caroline flailed angrily. "We've decided to make use of our own power to bestow a gift upon you, and you dare to act like this? **No buts!** "_

_"I'm afraid it truly is mandatory at this time that we proceed, inmate. You cannot be allowed to return to reality until we have completed this lesson." Justine had produced a huge, ancient-looking book, and was now holding it open, palm raised above it. Suddenly, her eyes flashed to Akira, her fist clenched, and he felt a piercing pain in his head._

_((Ahhhh no no this feels.....))_

_"Having to use force is regretful, but my master has assured me that you will be grateful when it is over. I'm sure that, when done entirely by your own will, this will be more....comfortable."_

_"What....what are you doing?!" Akira gasped. But then....he saw them._

_The Pixie, her eyes darting nervously about the prison._  
_Arsene, top hat tilted to the ground, black-tipped claws dangling at his sides._

_They were out of his reach, far beyond the bars of his cell. And they were drifting towards....a pair of guillotines?!_

_(( They can't be planning to--!! ))_

_Their twin blades glinted menacingly in the blue gloom of the prison, like the scythes of Death himself. Akira felt cold._

_Caroline and Justine approached the pair sedately, carrying a pair of blue velvet bags. As they moved to fasten them around his Personas' heads, Caroline commented blithely, "We may be destroying these two, but it's in the name of greater power. Surely you'll appreciate that."_

_For an instant, Pixie's too-large eyes met his, and he felt drowned in pity. Then, she was swallowed by velvet._

_"Destroy?! Wait, don't I get a say in this?"_

_Justine shrugged as she lead the Pixie to the rear of one guillotine. "They are the only two Personae that you have at the moment, so this is the way the lesson must be carried out."_

_Akira was horrified to see Arsene, the being he had felt was his "true self," forced to his knees, shrouded head upon the chopping block._

_Wait. Wait, no--_

_Before he could even cry out, the twins released the blades. They flew down with the speed of a hawk claiming its already condemned prey, and, with a wet ((SNICK))...._

_For a single horrifying moment, Akira experienced true emptiness. Devoid of any self, any direction, any desire...The life was sucked from his grey eyes in the space of a single heartbeat._

_(( I'm....untethered. ))_

_(( ... ))_

_(( Nothing. ))_

_(( ... ))_

_(( Not anything. ))_

_(( ... ))_

_(( I am nothing no one no one empty nothing ))_

_He felt like he should scream, but found himself unable to remember what might drive someone to do such a thing._

_(( I'm not anything at all--I--!! ))_

_Reality reasserted itself with a ((GASP)) as a two balls of light formed from the corpses of his Personae coalesced into a single, shining figure._

**_I am thou, thou art I!_ **  
**_Pleased ta meetcha! I'm Agathion!_ **

_Some...some strange, childlish imp, catlike eyes peeking over the lip of a golden jar. They had gutted his true self for an imp in a jar._

_Agathion swept itself into his mind without aplomb. The lesson, evidently, was complete._

_And Akira just felt numb. Agathion felt like having a child playing marbles poorly on the floor of his brain. Jolting, jarring, too loud, too harsh, too **needy.**_

_Akira took a deep breath. It felt like the first gasp taken after nearly drowning. He probed the corners of his mind. It felt like poking a deep, distressingly tender bruise. One that went on and on and on and...._

_The twins looked back at him smugly, pleased with their handiwork. Only Justine showed a glimmer of unease when noticing the state of their guest._

_(( That emptiness....I never want to experience that again. But....I was still alive. I was still alive, and I just went on and on and on into nothing. ))_

_He felt nauseated recalling the feeling. Although it had only lasted for the time it would take to blink an eye, he felt certain that emptiness would haunt him for the rest of his life. The feeling of being without **any** "core" or "desire."_

_He shuddered sickly at the implications of what he'd experienced. At how close he had felt to nonexistence, which felt strangely different and even more terrible than death._

_(( If even Arsene isn't necessary to my being....does that mean I don't actually have a core existence? I thought he was my true self! I...._

_What if that 'nothing' **is**_ _me? ))_

_Akira's eyes filled with horror._

_(( That **can't** be all there is. ))_

_"I want him back."_

_(( But even if he is me.....))_

_"Inmate?" Justine questioned, striding silently to his bars._

_(( If they killed him -- then did I just allow myself to be destroyed? ))_

_Hollowly, "Give him back, please."_

_Caroline stomped angrily to her place beside her sister. "Do you really have the nerve to complain after we show you something so amazing? This is all for your own good, you--"_

_"Just a moment, sister." Justine interrupted. "Give who back?"_

_Akira felt childish tears well up inside him, his face hot._

_(( ~ Give it back! Give it back! Just do it! )) something chanted within him. He quelled the impish urge to stomp his foot._

_"A--Arsene. Give him back. He's....he's me, isn't he?"_

_Justine looked thoughtful. "Well, I suppose that's a matter for debate..."_

_(( No. He has to be me. Because if he isn't, and that emptiness **is**....))_

_"But we can certainly accommodate your request."_

_(( W-what? They... ))_

_She brandished the ancient book she had wielded earlier. Akira shrank back instinctively, remembering the sensation of having his Personae drawn from his mind._

_"In this compendium, we hold a record of each Persona that you have hosted in your soul. As such, we have the power to call them into being once more."_

_"For a perfectly reasonable fee!" Caroline chimed in._

_(( They can do that?! Yes! Yes, please! ))_

_Without a second thought, without even considering the possible cost, Akira was ready to accept._

_"So am I correct in understanding that you would like to make that request? Remember that this Persona may not serve you as well as others may in the future. And your human heart may only hold a limited number of such entities..."_

_She turned to him seriously. "Knowing that....and knowing that holding on to a weaker Persona may limit your power going forward....do you still wish to proceed?"_

_He froze._

_"Arsene...will limit my power?"_

_"It is a possibility to keep in mind, yes."_

_(( I.....so this is selfish, then. Arsene may not be as helpful in protecting the others. This is something I'd be doing purely for myself. ))_

_His hands trembling, he ground his foot into the concrete floor of his barren cell._

_(( But....I'm not alone in this. Ryuji and Morgana can also fight. With my friends....I don't have to bear the burden of this power alone._

_So let me be selfish! ))_

_With a spark of his rebellious spirit reigniting in his eyes, Akira clenched his fist._

_"I'm sure."_

_With a sigh, Justine opened her compendium. "Very well, then."_

_Caroline insisted upon a payment, bizarrely carried out in actual, real-world money. What use they could have for that within the Velvet Room Akira couldn't imagine, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care._

_With a wave of Justine's hand, Arsene's familiar mask materialized in the air above her, then shot toward Akira like a magnet._

_**Home.**  
_

_(( Is...is he the same?  ))_

_(( ....would I know, if something had changed? ))_

_(( No, I can't -- I'm sure I would.  If he -- I -- he changed, it would feel wrong. I know it would. ))_

**_Home.._ **

_He allowed his body to relax in relief. He'd made the right choice, hadn't he?_

_(( I'm me now, right? I could tell....if I wasn't? ))_  
_(( I can tell myself, no matter what happens, no matter what other Persona I must carry within myself, as long as I still carry the only one that was actually born within me...))_  
_(( I'm still me... ))_

_Shaking their heads, the twin wardens turned from him and stepped into the darkness of the greater Velvet Room to rejoin their master. That same darkness reached out to embrace Akira and return him to his sleep, uneasy thoughts echoing into his dreams._

_(( Even if it is selfish....for whatever it is worth....I can't let myself only be what is needed for others. I have to hold on to who I want to be. Somehow.. ))_

_In reality a boy, drenched in sweat, gripped his pillow in the moonlight. ]]_


	9. Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note an updated tag/ca or two. Getting into the Shiho stuff with this chapter.

Early the next morning, having exchanged contact information, Akira and Ryuji went over their "battle plan" via text.

Most of the school was going to be gathered that afternoon for a volleyball assembly. Afterward, there would be one free period that would be the perfect opportunity for tracking down Kamoshida's victims and hunting for information.

      **Ryuji** : I know this'll work!  
      **Ryuji** : Right, man?  
      **Akira** : It had better. Tbh, what other plan do we have?

After their arrival at Shujin, they set out to do just that. But, as with all carefully laid plans, sometimes a person's "best" still isn't sufficient to carry them to success.

At the assembly, Akira and Ryuji sat together to (ostensibly) watch the game, while quietly splitting up which floors and classes they'd cover. From the corner of his eye, Akira caught Ann Takamaki eyeing them suspiciously, and shouldered Ryuji to call attention to it.

Ryuji grumbled and fell silent, and the two boys turned their attention to the game.

_Teachers against students...is that really fair? Sports aren't my thing. It seems like the kids in the volleyball team are struggling, though._

In the rear of the students' formation, a boy with dark blue hair and a bandaged knee edged slowly away, chewing his lip anxiously.

_Is he trying to back out of the game? I don't--ahh look out!!_

A volleyball, brutally spiked by Kamoshida, flew across the gym and pelted the boy directly in the face. He crumpled to the ground from the impact, nose bloodied.

Beside Akira, Ryuji tensed and hissed, "That son of a...."

 _He clearly did that on purpose!_  
_Is there really nothing we can do?_

Akira glanced at the other teachers in the gym, hoping to see at least one of them concerned for the boy who was being helped back to his feet by a teammate.

But, no.

The only one who even feigned worry was Kamoshida himself, who stepped up with a smile and magnanimous apology, then enlisted a pair of students to guide the injured student to the nurse's office. As he watched, a few teachers nodded enthusiastically. One clapped him on the back. All were ready to return to the game without fanfare or genuine concern.

_They really....how do they not see through this?_

Beside him, Ryuji was jogging his knee up and down, practically vibrating with frustration. He muttered through the corner of his mouth, "Akira, I can't keep watching this. Seeing all these adults act like this is normal, it...." he gritted his teeth. "It's pissin' me off."

Akira hummed in agreement. "Let's get out of here. We can wait out the assembly in my homeroom, and then go to the floors we planned on to track down those guys."

But when an hour had passed, the deepening afternoon found them more frustrated than they could have imagined. As planned, the boys met up in the school's central courtyard to go over their progress....or, rather, lack of it.

Akira had hoped that getting outside into the spring air would help to clear his head, but the day was strangely windless and stagnant. Having to admit that his investigation had been mostly useless was hard enough, without nearly  _literally_ choking on his words in this dry, lifeless air.

Beside him, Ryuji fumed. "So, the same for you. Not _one_ of them would speak up?!"

"Exactly. Honestly, they seemed terrified. The only thing I got was a name....Mishima? Just another kid to look into. And with our luck, he'll...." he trailed off, letting himself fall heavily onto a stone bench.

 _Was this all pointless?_  
_Getting these guys to talk was our only real option._

"Mishima, huh? He's that kid that got nailed in the face with a ball during the game today. Isn't he in your class?"

Akira nodded. "I didn't know that was his name, but yeah, he sits a few rows away from me."

"Well then, I guess...." Ryuji trailed off awkwardly. They both seemed to have had the wind knocked out of their sails. They hadn't expected it to be easy, but to have today be a _complete_ failure?

To add insult to injury after their inability to convince any of the volleyball players to speak out, the boys suddenly found themselves confronted by an extremely irritated Ann Takamaki, who rounded the corner into the courtyard out of (seemingly) nowhere.

"Hey! I need to talk to the two of you!" She planted her feet firmly, clearly planning to go nowhere until she was finished with them.

Ryuji huffed. "Ugh, here we go."

Confused, Akira asked, "Do you know her? I've seen her around a few times, but--"

"Will the two of you quit _gossiping_ and listen to me?!" The girl punched the air, frustrated.

"I hear you've been interrogating the volleyball team about Mr. Kamoshida. I'm here to ask you to stop prying into things you know **nothing** about."

Ryuji, dander up, yelled back at her, "No friggin way, Ann! Besides, what gives you the right to boss us around?"

"Be--because!" She stomped a foot angrily, pigtails flying. "What you're doing won't do anyone any good! And, and besides....if you cause trouble for her..." her voice faded, jaw clenched. "For _Shiho_ , I won't forgive you." The last, said in nearly a whisper.

_Shiho?_

Before Akira could muster the courage to ask the girl a single question, Ann turned on her heel and stormed away.

Flabbergasted by his classmate's anger, Akira turned to Ryuji in her wake. "What was all that about?"

Ryuji rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, his shoulders relaxing now that the other blonde was gone. "I dunno, man. When it comes to Ann...." He bought himself a moment of thinking time by walking over to a nearby vending machine and inserting enough change for a soda.

As the impressively florescent drink thudded down, he continued. "We were actually pretty close in middle school, but by the time we made into Shujin, we'd fallen out of touch."

Ryuji opened the drink with a fizzy ((hissss)) and took a swig, then grimaced, looking at the label. Apparently he'd bought the wrong one. He kept drinking it anyway. "She seems like she's changed a lot the last year or two. Gotten more standoffish, angrier. She's always been kinda intense though!" He laughed almost fondly.

"Hmm. Then, who's Shiho?"

"Shiho Suzui is Ann's best friend here at Shujin. She's Ann's polar opposite. Kinda meek and quiet, y'know? You've probably seen her around. Short haired girl, always has that athletic brace on her knee lately?" He gestured toward his own knee as he said that, and, in doing so, an unhappy gear seemed to click into place in his mind.

Looking back, Akira thought he knew which girl Ryuji was referring to. She was one of the few who he _hadn't_ seen whispering about him in the halls on the day he'd arrived at Shuijin.

_In fact....she'd almost looked sad about it. She seemed kind, though._

"Come to think of it, she's on the volleyball team too....I wonder if...." Ryuji's hand clenched his soda anxiously, but then relaxed as he shook his head. "N-never mind. I didn't see her in 'that place's' training room, so..."

 _Does he think she's been abused as well?_  
_She **is** on the volleyball team..._

"Anyway, Ann needs to lay off. We're doing the right thing, right?" He looked to Akira with a face that seemed to crave reassurance.

"Yeah, I'm sure we are."

_But if it is the right thing, why are there obstacles at every turn?_

Suddenly a small, sharp voice rang out across the courtyard. "Hey! You two! Over here!"

A familiar voice.

_Morgana? In **this** world?_

The boys nodded at each other and moved to locate their mysterious teammate. They made their way to a fence on the outskirts of the courtyard. It had seemed like the right direction, but....

"Where is he?"

"Uhh, I'm _right here_!" Morgana's voice piped up from their feet.

Both Ryuji and Akira startled in surprise at what they found. Standing on four paws in the grass below them was....a cat. A perfectly normal-appearing tuxedo-colored cat, with....with huge blue eyes....?

"Morgana?!" Akira exclaimed.

"No way! So you really are a c--"

Morgana clawed Ryuji's pantsleg and hissed irritably, "If you call me a cat, I swear, I'm done here."

"B-but--!"

"D. O. N. E." he spelled out firmly. "Done."

"O....okay. Uh. But what are you doin' here at our school?"

Morgana perked up, then twitched his ears, perhaps checking to see if he could hear anyone nearby who might be listening in. Finally, he admitted, "Honestly, I was bored."

"For real?! All this, just because you--"

"Hey!" their companion interrupted sternly. "I do have a purpose in being here. I wanted to check in on your investigation. Has it had the results you were hoping for?"

The boy's immediately abashed faces were answer enough for him.

"Well, it stands to reason that you'd fall out of luck without me!"

Ryuji's downcast face immediately twisted into irritation, and he stomped comically toward the cat-bodied creature on the ground. "Why you--! If you don't got anything constructive to say, then--!"

Morgana leapt back, then twisted himself around Akira's ankles until Ryuji backed down.

_Hey, don't get me in the middle of this!_

"Well, I _do_ have a solution for you. One that will help all three of us, I'm certain of it!"

Morgana went on to describe the Treasure buried in the depths of each Palace, and the mechanism for obtaining it. At first, Akira could see where he was going with it.

_So you steal his 'twisted desires,' and then...._

Suddenly his mind flashed back in horror to his own brief descent into lack of self and desire when he'd been momentarily deprived of all Personae.

**_[[ ...nothing no one no one empty nothing ... ]]_ **

His chest twisted painfully with the echoes of the fear he'd felt the previous night. That dread...it was the first emotion that had felt true-to-self after Agathion had materialized...and even _that_ had felt better than--

He forced himself to speak up. "That....that seems wrong. We would be risking a complete shutdown? Like those cases that have been on the news?"

His hands began trembling just-perceptibly, and he dug his nails into them angrily, determined to seem like he wasn't arguing on pure emotion.

"We don't even know the full consequences of doing something like that to a person!"

"Well, he could die," Morgana admitted blithely. "With the loss of all desire, that could conceivably carry with it the desire to eat, drink....any basic functions of life, really."

_**\---!!!** _

In shock, Ryuji exclaimed, "What?! So what are we talkin' about here? **Murder?!** "

"Ryuji, _shut up_!" Akira hissed. He didn't disagree, but their raised voices had drawn the attention of a few kids across the courtyard.

_The last thing we need is a rumor that **murder** is on the agenda for the "Delinquents Club." Or, going a step further, that we are plotting murder with stray cats._

_Perfectly normal thing to do, right?_

Still, Morgana seemed disturbingly nonchalant. "Well, I hope not, but it is impossible to know for sure," he admitted.

"Well then..." Ryuji ground his sneaker into the dirt in frustration. "Well then, we can't do it. I want to make him pay, but I'm not okay with _killing_ anybody!  Even a bastard like that. Right, Akira?"

Relief flooded Akira's body. More relief than he wanted to admit. He didn't want to have to try to explain his fear of subjecting anyone to that horrible void. Not to anyone, even Ryuji.

"Yeah. I'm sorry Morgana, but we have to keep trying here in the real world, at least for now."

Morgana sighed. "I thought you might say something like that. Hmm. Still, it seems the two of you are lost without a mentor." He eyed them intently, as if sizing them up. Finally, he focused on Akira and proclaimed, "Very well then! I will generously make a deal with you! If you agree to shelter me until the end of this situation, I will teach you everything I know about being a proper Phantom Thief!"

_Shelter him? Does that mean what I think it means?_

Akira looked to Ryuji for help, but his friend merely held his hands up and said, "Hey man, don't look at me. We aren't allowed pets--" he stuttered at a stern glance from Morgana "or-or _pet-shaped-people_ in our apartment!"

_But I...I live in a cafe. There's no way that's any better._

"It's settled then! I'm going home with this guy!"

_Wait, **is** it settled?! I....I guess??_

Akira was given no time to protest before everything but Morgana's tail was out of sight. He'd somehow managed to worm his way into Akira's book bag.

_I have textbooks in there. That **cannot** be comfortable._

He sighed, adjusting his glasses.

_But I guess, it is what it is?_

Blandly, he stated, "Fine. Sounds great. I'll be glad to have you as a mentor, Morgana."

A tiny muffled voice called from the depths of his bookbag. "Well, of course you are! You really are quite lucky, you know?"

From around the corner, a deep voice called, "Hey, I swear that I just heard a cat! There are no animals allowed on school property!"

_Great, another way for me to get into trouble. But does this mean that to everyone else, Morgana's voice just sounds like meowing?_

"Uhhh dude, we'd better get outta here."

Akira nodded in assent. There was only one class period left before they'd get to head home, and he really needed to sort through the day.

_Our failure..._

Downcast, Akira walked the halls toward his final class of the day, trying to shoulder his bag in a way that would hide the extra weight. It was difficult. Cats are incredibly lumpy and awkward things to carry around in canvas.

_We have to find a way to confront Kamoshida with what he's done! But in reality, right?_

_Would it really be "justice" to risk a mental shutdown? And is a mental shutdown really equivalent to what I experienced in the Velvet Room last night? Kamoshida is not a Persona user after all, so it is possible that I'm projecting, and he would go through something entirely different._

_Different-better, or different-worse?_

_Hmm..._

He slid into his chair, and had to restrain himself from yelping in surprise when Morgana crept from his bag into the cavity beneath his desk.

"Morgana, you can't--" he hissed under his breath.

"Well, you can't expect me to be smothered in your bag all day...." his teammate muttered.

Akira cringed as his teacher, Kawakami, glanced around the room curiously, her lips mouthing the question: ((cat??))

_This is bound to end poorly...._

Somehow, he made it through his final class without alerting Kawakami to the presence of her secret, furry student.

Akira rushed down to the main hall, ready to leave for the day, only to find Ryuji there already, being confronted by the blue haired boy who had been injured earlier in the day.

_That's Mishima, right? The **one** name we were able to pry from that younger volleyball player?_

_He looks exhausted...._

His classmate listed to one side at Akira watched him, clearly favoring the leg that hadn't been bandaged in the gymnasium earlier.  Deep circles rimmed his eyes as he paced slowly, uniform dress shoes clacking an unrhythmic beat on the scuffed tile floor.

As Akira drew closer and joined Ryuji, Mishima stared at him blankly, ceasing his anxious circling. "So you're here too, now. Good. I can get this over with all at once."

_His voice sounds so deadened....it's like he decided he was defeated before he even started speaking to us._

"You two...." The boy fingered his injured face thoughtlessly, and winced. "You need to stop asking questions about Mr. Kamoshida."

Frustrated, Ryuji spat out, "Seriously, you too? Look at your friggin face! You can't be trying to tell me you're okay with all this?!"

The boy's face was completely closed off to the both of them, eyes dull and downcast. Sullenly, he continued, "It isn't....it isn't a matter of being okay with anything. Are the two of you really that naive?!"

_Naive? What does he...?_

"Do you think the adults in our lives don't know? This new guy I believe it of, but you, Sakamoto-kun--" he turned to Ryuji. "You should know better than anyone."

Ryuji startled, a pained look on his face.

_No...._

_But...I can see it._

_In the gym earlier, those teachers just stood by and did nothing._

"Our teachers, our _parents_....do you really think that every one of them could be that oblivious?"

_....and **parents** just standing by?  **That** isn't a shock to me at all._

_....._

What he was implying was horrible, but the monotone of his voice suggested that Mishima was completely resigned to it.

_Does he feel that there's no escape?_

**"Hey, Mishima!"**

The boy jumped at the call, eyes darting around frantically. Finally they came to rest on Kamoshida, who was calling to him from the stairs, eyes narrowed.

"Get up to my office. I need you for something."

Under his breath, Ryuji whispered, "Dude, wait, you don't gotta--"

"I--I have to go now, bye!" The boy bolted for the stairs at a pace that couldn't have been healthy for his bandaged knee. As he dashed up the stairs, Kamoshida's eyes lingered on them for a moment suspiciously, before following.

Akira and Ryuji, demoralized, headed for the door.

"Ryuji...he was terrified."

"Yeah...this whole thing is effed up. If no kids will talk, is there seriously nothing we can do?"

Akira winced, the implication clear.

_Nothing we can do except for Morgana's plan, in that other world._

"We....we'll keep trying. At least for a little while. If we can't, then, we will...." he trailed off.

Ryuji nodded as they approached the street. "Right. Well, see ya, man."

Akira turned toward the train station, ready to crawl home and lick his wounds after a long and useless day.

But there....in the station lobby, a disturbing sight greeted him.

_Is that Ann?_

Huddled near a pillar on the outskirts of the room, the girl was yelling into her phone, clearly distressed. Akira quietly walked close enough to hear her side of the conversation. He felt a little guilty for doing so, but after the day's events, he needed to know what was happening.

"No--! No, I just....I can't do that."

"What? No, you **can't**! Shiho has nothing to do with this!! She--" The girl suddenly removed the cellphone from her ear and stared into it with tear filled eyes. Had she been hung up on?

Voice wavering, she whispered, "Shiho's starting position.....no....." before crumpling against the pillar for support.

_Oh no. Is this....why she was confronting us earlier? Did we make things worse?_

Ann's eyes suddenly met his own, and, mouth twisting with displeasure, she confronted him. "Were you listening to me?"

Awkwardly, Akira admitted that he had overheard her.

"Ugh...this...it has nothing to do with you! Just stay out of it!" With that, the girl turned away from him and ran deeper into the station, still clearly distraught.

_I....._

_I can't just leave her like that._

_Even more than my suspicion that what is happening is a clue to Kamoshida's behavior...I can't ignore someone who is clearly in trouble._

That goal set firmly in mind, Akira set off to follow her through the station. The girl was.....not impressed when he finally caught up to her.

"Are you....are you seriously following me?" Ann's breath hitched, as though she was holding in a sob. "I should...I should call you out for being a creep! But...." her shoulders collapsed, and her resolve to keep this to herself seemed to crumble. "But why do you care? Why do you...?"

Mustering up some courage, Akira held out a hand to her. "Let's go somewhere safe and talk, okay?"

Wiping a tear with the back of her hand, Ann muttered, "You're really weird, do you know that?" But, still, she lead him to a small diner in Shibuya. And it was there, in that diner, that Ann Takamaki finally spilled her guts.

"You saw him pick me up that day, didn't you? That morning, in the rain?" She stirred her drink absently, looking up at Akira with shockingly blue eyes made even brighter by the contrast of the raw redness rimming them from her earlier tears. "You tried to say something, didn't you? Why..?"

"I...." Akira gulped. This wasn't something he had prepared himself for today. Being honest with himself, he didn't think he was suited for it. But he had to try.

"I didn't think it looked right. The way he was staring at you...and the way you looked. I was worried that you weren't safe." At that admission, Ann crushed her drink's tiny paper straw wrapper between her fingers.

Slowly, her eyes distant, almost as though she felt out-of-body allowing herself to admit what she was, she said, "Everyone....everyone thinks we are....getting it on."

 _Getting it on?! So when Ryuji called Kamoshida a pervert, he--_  
_Did he know she was going through this?_

Increasingly impassioned, Ann tore the remnants of the wrapper into tinier pieces, insisting, "But that couldn't be farther from the truth! I....I'd never--! But today...." She let the paper fragments flutter to the table, eyes downcast.

"He tried to get me to come over to his house. On the phone just now. You...you know what that means."

He knew. He knew, and it made his heart leap into his throat. He could feel it there, _beatingbeatingbeating_ as he took in this information.

Under the table, Akira's hands shook, though he tried his best to not allow his face to betray his emotions. He pressed his fingernails into his palms, willing them to stop trembling.

_So here....the adults here are....they're willing to turn a blind eye to..._

_But with what I know, why am I surprised? Why would I have thought Tokyo would be better than that?_!

"He said if he didn't....he would take away Shiho's starting position! Something she's worked so hard for. Something she's sacrificed for....I refused....but how could I be so selfish?" Ann lowered her head to rest on her hands, which were now clasped loosely on the table.

His own hands crushed between his legs, Akira's nails cut deep enough to draw blood as he struggled with what he was hearing.

_How can I offer the advice she needs, when I myself can't even--_

**_[[ ........ ]]_ **

_I can't--_

**_[[ .............. ! ]]_ **

Unpleasant thoughts tried to push their way into his brain, and he shoved them aside, willing himself to be calm enough to be useful in this moment.

_How does someone like me teach another person to stand up to the adults in their life, when all I could do was hide in Tokyo for a year?_

_But...I have to say **something**...._  
_even if it makes me a hypocrite._

"You're...you're not selfish."

_Control your breathing, Akira. Get it out._

"Or, even if you are, you know...you did the right thing. To refuse."

Tears in her eyes, Ann laughed a strange bitter laugh. "I know. But if I did the right thing, why do I feel so sick and scared about it?"

Akira had no answer for her. He dug through his mind for a reply, but before he could, Ann asked, "Huh, why am I telling you all of this? I don't even know you."

Quietly, he suggested, "Maybe it is _because_ you don't know me?"

"Ha."

....

"Maybe. Anyway..." She laid down the change for her iced tea on the table. "Thanks. For listening. I know what I need to do. I think.....I think I'm going home now."

_Thank goodness._

Akira watched her leave, relieved that he'd been able to do _something_ , today, at least.

 _She's too young. We are all too young, I--_  
_She shouldn't have to deal with that kind of sick pressure._  
_But surely...._

His brow furrowed as he reached into his pockets for change for his own tea.

_Surely something like that also counts as a "distorted desire," doesn't it? Then why haven't we seen anything like that in Kamoshida's palace?_

As the coins rolled into his palm, he hissed at an unexpected sting. Bringing his left hand out to eye it, he was shocked to see the ragged red half-moons his earlier anxiety had wrought.

 _When did I do that?_  
_Ohh. Right._  
_That's..._

_Not great._

He resolved to remember to sit on his hands instead the next time he needed to still them, and finally made his way onto the train home, not at all prepared to try to convince Sojiro Sakura to allow him to keep a "stray cat" in his cafe-attic bedroom.

Remembering Morgana now, he muttered to his bookbag, "Hey, Morgana. Thanks for keeping quiet through all that." He reached in to pat a furry head, half expecting to be bitten or scratched for it. To his surprise, he only heard...purring?

A quick peek through the flap confirmed that somehow, Morgana had managed to sleep through the whole thing.

_The lucky little shit. Ha._

_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

_[[ That evening, Sojiro Sakura dug through the cupboards of his kitchen at home, searching for canned tuna that he could have sworn he'd bought a while back. No luck._

_"Hmm....I'll have to buy some at the market in the morning. Or maybe something fresh? What would he like more? But then again, I shouldn't spoil him."_

_Sakura agonized for a moment._

_"No, no, canned it is. Hmph...I'd better buy a few cans. I doubt that kid has any idea how to properly care for a cat."_

_He began replacing boxes and cans on his shelves, allowing himself to pout slightly in the privacy of the otherwise empty room. The man grumbled to himself, "I still wish I could have named him though. What kind of name is ' **Morgana** ' for a cat?..." ]]_

_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

_[[ Unknown to anyone, a dark haired girl scrubbed her body viciously in the shower for the 5th time, agonizing over what she could have done differently._

_(( Did I...did I cause this somehow? ))_

_(( Wear the wrong thing? Do the wrong thing?!?  No! ))_

_(( No, I'm sure I'm sure I'm sure I-- ))_

_She gripped her head in her hands, fingers tangling painfully in her hair._

_(( Should I have expected this? ))_

_(( Should I have ignored Mishima when he told me to go....? But I but I but what choice did I...? ))_

_Hair still wet, she limped across her pitch-black room, collapsed on the bed, and sobbed herself to sleep._

_(( What kind of life can I possibly live after this? ))  ]]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, thanks so much for the kudos/bookmarks/feedback so far! It's really nice/motivating, knowing that you're reading along. ツ


	10. Motive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiho jumps off a roof in this one, so if you're not into reading that, might wanna approach this one with caution.

      **Akira** : Hey, Ryuji?  We need to talk about Ann.

Akira sent the text, his gut fluttering. It didn't feel good to even gently confront his only friend so far in Tokyo, but it had to be done. He had to know if Ryuji'd been aware of what was happening to Ann Takamaki. He wouldn't spill any of what she'd just confided in him of course, but...

He slid deeper into the hard-but-not-uncomfortable bench seat of the booth he'd claimed in LeBlanc. Sojiro wasn't around to kick him out -- not this late at night -- but Akira still felt strangely guilty over taking up the space.

_Maybe I'll buy a coffee in the morning to make up for it._

His phone vibrated, and he jolted, every nerve on high alert. He checked his phone, peering through the fingers of one hand while operating the touch screen with the other -- but it was a false alarm. Just some app notification.

_He's probably not even up this late anyway. It's, what--?_

He checked the screen.

_12:30 AM? Crap, that's not really late at all, is it? He's definitely still awake._

Akira groaned, annoyed at how much he was overthinking this. To distract himself, he looked around the darkened cafe, only to half-regret it. As always, LeBlanc was eerie at night. Dead silent, apart from the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional vehicle passing down the main street.

He half-laughed to himself. At least he'd be able to hear if Morgana woke and padded down the stairs. His new sort-of roommate was weirdly obsessed with his sleeping schedule (or, rather, his lack of one).

Just as he allowed himself to relax, his phone buzzed in his fist and the screen lit up, casting a blue glow over his hands in the gloom. A message.

      **Ryuji** : dude, youre up this late? but sure, whats up about Ann? You worried about what she was saying earlier?

_Now or never._

      **Akira** : no, it's not that

      **Ryuji** : then?

      **Akira** : I ran into her later. not gonna go into details, but like, did you know about the rumors about her and kamoshida?

      **Ryuji** : **( ••• )**

_Ahh he's been typing forever!_

Akira fidgeted in his seat, anxious in anticipation. What if Ryuji felt like he was accusing him of something? What if he got pissed, and didn't trust him as a teammate anymore? What if he--

      **Ryuji** : ohh. Yeah I know what youre talking about. Those rumors are bs tho. Ann isn't the type to put up with shit like that.

      **Akira** : **( ••• )**

_So he knew, but thought she had it handled?_

_That's..._

He moved to fiddle with his glasses out of habit, and only succeeded in poking himself in the eye. Of course. He'd left them on the desk upstairs (not that he needed them, anyway. They'd been an aesthetic choice after his arrest, out of the hope that they'd make him look more meek, less intimidating.).

_Which was a rousing success, clearly..._

In lieu of that, one hand idly tugged at a strand of his hair as Akira tried to choose his next words carefully.

      **Akira** : yeah but....even if they aren't true, don't you think she might have still needed help?

      **Akira** : It isn't normal to have a rumor like that be spread about a student and teacher.

      **Ryuji** : yeah your right.

      **Ryuji** : shit man. I feel bad. Idk, I didn't think of it that way. I guess I was too focused on the stuff right in my face with the sports teams

      **Ryuji** : and we hadn't talked in so long...and she has shiho now and stuff. Those are kinda shit excuses tho

      **Ryuji** : but if we take him down, those rumors should stop too right? I hope so. man....idk should I apologize to her?

Akira read through Ryuji's texts and felt at least a little better. He was right. They were shit excuses. But he could understand feeling like you had to focus on the problem staring you in the face, and not having the energy or resources to stick your nose in another one (especially when the person in question didn't seem to want your help).

_I should have known that Ryuji would see it as a problem too. He **did** call Kamoshida a pervert after all; of course he wasn't just fine with it._

Built up tension now draining, he smiled slightly in the dark and replied.

      **Akira** : That might be weird coming out of nowhere

      **Akira** : but I bet she'd appreciate someone sticking up for her the next time people are spreading that shit at school

      **Ryuji** : yeah your right. I can do that for sure. Gotta use this loud mouth for something right? lmao

      **Akira** : and we will find a way to take Kamoshida down in the real world. Best thing we can do, yeah?

      **Ryuji** : hell yeah!

      **Ryuji** : hey Akira, im pretty tired. Can we just talk more tmrw?

      **Akira** : yeah sure. Thanks for talking, sorry if it was kinda out of the blue

      **Ryuji** : np!

He waited a moment, but no more texts came through, so he slid his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and headed upstairs, careful to move as soundlessly as possible. He had a feeling Morgana would be a real bear if awoken ahead of schedule.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Akira sat in class, twirling a pen between his fingers. He stared at the back of Ann's head, wondering what she was thinking today.

They'd had such a serious moment the day before, but today...when they passed each other on their way into class, she hadn't acknowledged him at all.

_Guess she doesn't want to be associated with someone like me in reality._

He cringed at himself for the uncharitable thought, and set the pen down in favor of distractedly picking at his cuticles.

_No, that isn't fair. Don't project your shit self-esteem onto other people. She probably just has her own stuff going on. Or maybe I remind her of what we were talking about, and she doesn't want to think about that today._

_I wouldn't, in her place..._

He tried to push his worries out of his mind and focus on the teacher's lecture. But it was hard, when there seemed to be so much movement and activity in the hall outside the classroom.

_What in the world is going on, anyway--?_

Through a pane of glass set into the wall, he could see a trio of students craning their necks to see something out of sight in the courtyard beyond the hall window. One was wringing her hands in dismay. Yet another student stopped beside them and pointed toward the sky outside.

_Is something happening?_

He wasn't the only one in the classroom to take notice. By now, most of the class had their eyes on the cluster of kids outside their door, and the chatter was rising as they speculated about what could be going on. Their teacher was unimpressed, and griped at them all to settle down, but--

A scream rang out! **"She's gonna jump!"**

_What?!?_

Akira's heart flew into his throat as he felt the energy of the classroom change in an instant, torn somewhere between extreme tension and sickly excited rubbernecking.

**"That's Shiho Suzui! She's gonna jump!"**

"No!! _Shiho no not Shiho!_ " an almost unrecognizable voice wailed from the seat in front of him. Ann had leapt to her feet and made a mad dash for the classroom door, pushing through a bevy of students who had already risen to their feet. Heart pounding, Akira rushed to join her, a pit of dread in his gut.

_No no no no no_

_We knew. We knew something was happening, we didn't act fast enough, we --!_

As he dashed through the halls, using Ann's bright hair as a guide to avoid being lost in the crowd, his eyes darted out of the window at every possible instant.

_I see her._

_Still up there still up there still up there just stay just stay put just **NO NO NO**_

Just as he rounded the corner to the nearest exit leading to the courtyard, a sneakered foot rose from where it had been planted on the concrete roof above. A hand reached out, and black hair fluttered in the wind. He was surrounded by a chorus of gasps and shouts, but none rang louder than the anguished, piercing cry he heard from Ann through the courtyard door. **_"SHIHO!!"_**

He closed his eyes reflexively, missing the thud of the girl's body on the ground below. Bile rose in his throat, and his ears rang as he struggled to force himself forward.

_I....I'm not ready to see death. I'm not...._

_But if she died. This is partially my fault._

His body felt cold and detached from his mind as he pushed his way through a sea of bodies into the open air.

_We had a solution to end Kamoshida, and I held back from it out of fear of my own guilt, what it would do to me._

_How fucking selfish._

_Didn't I agree, when I accepted Arsene, that I would follow this path, "even into Hell itself?" Even if it destroyed the last good parts of me?_

_But at the first chance, I turned away from that. And now..._

As he emerged, the mid afternoon sun seemed disgustingly inappropriate, shining cheerfully on the girl's crumpled body, surrounded by a crowd of gawkers and teachers who were wringing their hands ineffectually. Ann knelt on the ground beside her, dirt and blood staining her leggings, Shiho's hand clasped in her own. Her ear was pressed to her friend's lips, and Ann's eyes were wide as she took in what might very well be Shiho's final words.

_But shes moving!! Is she--?!_

"Emergency services are nearly here."

"That girl, why did she--"

"Eeeughh, there's so much blood!"

Akira jolted as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and spun to find Ryuji there. The boy's face was ashen and horrified. Akira tried to think of something to say, but he couldn't seem to force his lips to connect to his mind.

"Dude, look. That guy...." Ryuji muttered grimly, pointing into the crowd.

Akira spied movement just in time to see the volleyball student from the day before, Mishima, break away from the masses and bolt, tears streaming down his face.

"That guy knows something. C'mon."

Akira was torn, loathe to leave the scene, but what could he do here? Following Ryuji, he bolted around the outskirts of the crowd to pursue Mishima back into the interior of the school.

As the door thudded shut behind them, he heard sirens in the distance.

_Please get here in time._

For an injured kid, Mishima was surprisingly quick on his feet. Still, they finally cornered him at the end of the hallway leading to their shared homeroom.

Ryuji, buoyed by fury, took the lead.

"You know somethin' about this, don't you?!"

The other boy cringed against the wall, shaking his head uselessly. "No, no I...." he denied, but was betrayed by the tears still staining his face.

"Dammit Mishima, a girl could die, and you're still gonna keep quiet? What will it take, if not this?!"

At that, Mishima's face crumpled in agony, and he slid down the wall until he was seated messily on the floor, face cradled in his hands. An unintelligible muffled mumble poured from between his fingers.

"What was that? Dude I can't hear you like that."

 **"I said that it's all my fault!!"** the boy shouted, voice raw. He stared up again with fresh tears streaming down his face. He rubbed a gout of snot on his own sleeve, and then winced at the pain from his still-injured nose. Still prodding the bridge of that same nose, he continued, "I....I.....I was told to call her out last night. After school."

"Call her....out?" In a whisper, Akira enouraged him to continue.

Mishima tried to answer, but gagged on his own sobbing. After a few rounds of deep breathing he finally choked out, "T-to.....to Mr. K-kamoshida's office."

The words hit Akira like a punch in the gut.

Mishima continued, voice trembling, "Usually when he does that he just hits us, or....or intimidates us. But he seemed....really irritated last night." He continued to prod at his injured nose, and Akira cringed, nearly able to feel the obvious pain in his own body. "I don't know....I don't know for sure what he did, but...."

Suddenly Akira put two and two together, recalling that Ann's phone call with Kamoshida had likely ended right around that same time.

_She told him no. And then he called Shiho up to his office..._

_No. **No**._

Akira couldn't breathe. He fell into the background, struggling against the wave of dizziness and the buzzing in his own head. Through the mental miasma, he could focus just enough to see the blur of Ryuji punching a wall.

_We just walked away that day. We'd just talked about her, just talked about her knee brace, just decided to refuse to go deeper into Kamoshida's palace. We were right there and we just walked away just walked away just--_

He bit his index finger, trying to do anything he could to ground himself.

_Focus focus focus Akira damn it!_

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and some of the static finally cleared from his mind.

 **"That sick son of a bitch!"** An impassioned shout that revealed that his friend had likely pieced together the implications as well.

Akira tried to speak, only to find his throat too tight to let out anything but a squeak. He coughed, and tried again. "Mishima, just...just wait here for a second, okay"

He held out a hand to help the boy up from the floor, but his classmate ignored it, choosing to struggle up on his own. He stood in the corner sullenly, wiping his raw face with his sleeves.

Akira turned to Ryuji, who leaned heavily against a wall, brown eyes heavy with guilt. "Damn it, Akira. Dammit dammit **dammit**!" Each exclamation was punctuated by his fists, smacking the wall at his side.

"I even made the friggin connection with her knee injury yesterday and brushed it off like an idiot just because I didn't see her in...in that place." His nose crinkled in self-disgust. "Like **I'm** a friggin expert or something, and just because I didn't see her, nothing could have happened. So stupid!"

_So he feels the same way._

_Then...._

_Maybe he'll agree._

Akira settled in beside Ryuji on the wall, staring at his shoes. "Yesterday, we were too weak to do what needed to be done. And because of that...."

He swallowed a painful lump in his throat.

"Because of that, Shiho Suzui was hurt, and might even die. While most of the blame for that lies with that fucking dirtbag Kamoshida, we still...." He had no more words (especially not ones that could be said in front of Mishima), but, at that point, what was left to say?

"Yeah. We can't hold back now, right man?" Ryuji's voice had grown cold, and his face was stony. But there seemed to be no room for moderation there. Not anymore.

 **_So is this how simple it becomes to contemplate murder?_ **  
_Of course, we'll try to avoid it, but..._  
_But...._

"Ugh, I can't friggin stand it. I'm gonna go give that fucking asshole a piece of my mind!"

_Wait what?!_

Before Akira could respond or stop him, Ryuji took off in the direction of the stairs.

Mishima breathed, wonderingly, "He's...he's really going to Kamoshida's office?"

"We-we have to stop him!"

Akira took off after his friend. Surprisingly, Mishima trailed behind him.

 _No no no Ryuji. I get it, but...._  
_You can't run off loose-cannon! Too much is at stake!_

He turned the corner just in time to see a bright blonde head dart into the P.E. office. A thud sounded that Akira suspected came from a thrown punch from Ryuji.

_Please be an inanimate object please be an inanimate object_

_We can't fight in his palace if you're in jail!!_

As Akira and Mishima skidded into the room, chests heaving from the exertion of running, they were just in time to hear Ryuji shout, "What the fuck did you do to her, you sick bastard?"

Whatever effect he'd hoped to have on Kamoshida, the smug, self-assured drawl he countered with certainly wasn't it. "Do to her? To who? Oh, are you talking about that girl who was dramatic enough to fling herself from the roof? Ha." He leaned forward in his desk chair in a sick facsimile of conspiratorialness. "From what I hear, she's in a coma, and is not expected to wake up. Not now, not ever."

_No!_

"You--!" Ryuji lunged forward, and it took every bit of strength Akira had to dart to him in time and hold him back.

"Ryuji, you can't, he--not _here_ , do you understand?!"

"I....I.....goddammit." The boy remained tense in his grasp, but stopped trying to flail away from him to deck his teacher. He breathed heavily, nostrils flaring. "Yeah, I get you. Not **here**." The last, said with absolute malice.

Kamoshida eyed them, suspicious. "What's that?..." But, before he could pry further....

"Even if she can't speak up, I can."

Akira turned in surprise at the near-whisper behind him.

Mishima's face drained of the little bit of color that had remained in it as he wavered in the doorway.

"I know you called her into your office last night. I know you--!"

Kamoshida's eyes narrowed as he stood from his chair to loom over the boys, clearly intending to be as intimidating as possible. For Mishima at least, the posturing was successful. To Akira's surprise, even Ryuji cringed.

_No, I shouldn't be surprised. This monster hurt Ryuji too, in a way that still hasn't fully healed._

"So, is that a threat?" Kamoshida's voice was pure menace as he strode closer to the trio. "Sakamoto here knows all about how well threats go over in this school."

Akira heard Ryuji's breath grow small and shallow as his eyes tracked the man advancing toward them.

"But....but I--!" Mishima's voice was small and pitiful as he cringed behind them.

Akira's hand still around Ryuji's arm, he guided his friend behind him toward the door, placing his own body between the other two and their abusive teacher.

_He's done enough to these two, I **have** to--_

"And you're in on it too, I see." At that, Kamoshida's eyes crinkled with amusement, giving off echoes of his shadow-self. "Do any of you really think that a group of **nothings** like you would be believed over me? Especially ones so...." He smirked. "Prone to violence?"

He laughed in their faces. "Let's see what this misguided 'bravery' gets you, eh? Look forward to expulsion, all three of you. I'll be taking it up at the next school board meeting in three weeks."

"What the hell?! You can't do that!" Ryuji lurched forward, stopped only by Akira's outstretched arm.

"No. It's _you_ who can't do anything. Par for the course, am I right?" He leered, victory in his eyes. "Now get out of here....before I consider this _another_ assault." The clear threat lingered in the air. His fingers twitched in anticipation of violence.

_We need to get out of here. He's just begging us to escalate, and if we let that happen--!_

"Go. Guys, go, now, let's **go**." Akira kept Ryuji's sleeve clenched in his fist as he backed up slowly. It took everything in him to turn his back on the man before him, but he had to. He needed to get them away, now.

Thankfully, the two boys complied. In silence, he guided them through the halls, down the stairs, and through a side entrance, out into the open air. He took a deep breath. After the terrifying claustrophobia of that office, the taste of the outdoors made him almost giddy with relief.

Ryuji opened his mouth to say something, but Akira held a finger to his lips, worried that someone could be lingering to listen. He lead them down the block, to a little alcove off of the sidewalk full of benches and vending machines. There, they finally allowed themselves to collapse in relief.

Ryuji jogged his leg anxiously, muttering, "I can't get expelled man. I can't. It'd friggin kill my mom. I already lost track, lost any chance for a scholarship. I've got shit grades, but at least I could show up and graduate, y'know? But...." He made a pained choking sound in his throat, and buried his face in his hands.

All Akira could do was nod in agreement. 

_I can't even....I can't let myself think about what my life will be like if I'm expelled._

His mouth had gone uncomfortably dry.

Seated on a bench across from them, Mishima spoke up quietly. "This isn't right. I...." he swallowed, looking away from the pair of boys. "Part of me wants to blame the two of you for what's happening. Because you pried, and you started this....this downfall. I've endured so much bad stuff just to get through this, and now....it feels like I lost everything in a day. But..."

He raised a hand as though he was going to prod at his nose again, then shook his head and forced that hand into a pocket instead. "But it isn't your fault. None of us did anything wrong. And what I'm going through now, losing what I am....you've dealt with this for ages, haven't you, Sakamoto-kun?"

Ryuji looked up in surprise at the acknowledgment, and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It's not like...a contest or anything though. Like, 'who did Kamoshida dick over more?' who wants to win that one?"

Amazingly, Mishima chuckled at that. "You're not wrong. I should have known that the rumors about you weren't true. And...." His eyes alighted on Akira now, suddenly uncertain. "And about you. Listen, I....."

He chewed his lip miserably. "I need to admit something to you. Although you'll probably hate me for it, which sucks since it feels like you two are my only allies at this point."

_Admit something to **me**? We don't even know eachother._

Flabbergasted, Akira nodded at him to continue. "This seems like as good a moment as any to make sure everything is out in the open."

"R....right." The blue haired boy seemed to force himself to look in Akira's direction. "Listen. When you started school here, I....I'm sure you noticed that there were already rumors about you."

Akira's stomach flipped, remembering.

 _[[ I heard that he's a violent criminal! ]]_  
_[[ Sure he looks tame now, but I bet if you tick him off.... ]]_

_What is he saying?!_

His hand clenched the lip of the bench he was seated on, and he forced himself to exhale as he realized he was holding his breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, Mishima, I noticed."

"Right. Yeah, of course you did." The boy laughed, in a kind of nervous horrified titter. "Well, I....Kamoshida has been making me do his dirty work for a while now, to keep my place on the team. It started off as little stuff that seemed normal, but then things escalated, and I felt like I was already in too deep, and I--" Mishima caught himself in a spiral of offering excuses, and bit his tongue.

Akira began to put two and two together.

"So, this dirty work.....?"

Mishima's face reddened with shame. "I...I'm pretty active on social media, and I help run a web forum dedicated to the school. News, events, gossip, stuff like that. Kamoshida, he....he had me leak your record online."

Akira flushed with a mixture of anxiety and anger.

_He put me online?! He....my record is just out there?!_

His feelings must have been clear on his face, because Mishima immediately cringed and teared up again. "I'm so, so sorry. I have a million reasons for why I did it, but....but none of them are a good excuse. I...."

Akira barely heard him, caught in a spiral of panic. He'd lost all agency, once again, in how he wanted to portray himself. In his identity.

_What was the point of coming to Tokyo in the first place? What the hell am I even doing here?! What--_

A hand laid itself tentatively on his shoulder and startled him out of his thoughts. Ryuji didn't say anything, but that steady presence was enough for Akira to force himself to breathe and remember where he was. What situation he was in.

_This is fucked up._

_What Mishima did was fucked up._

_But being pissed about it, and pissed at him specifically, will only give me another problem and another enemy when I really can't handle more of either._

_I....Akira, just pretend that you're fine with it._

_Be who you need to be. Deal with the truth later._

He ran his hands down his face, and by the time they'd met his collar, his demeanor had changed. Akira gentled his expression, relaxed his rigid posture.

"Hey, sorry, I....yeah, I get it."

Mishima glanced up at him, eyes wide with shock. "What? You do?"

Akira shrugged. "Yeah. I mean what you did sucked, but if it hadn't been you, Kamoshida would have just had someone else do it, right?"

The boy before him looked completely overwhelmed with relief. His lips trembled, and more tears filled his eyes, as he agreed, "Y...yeah, you're right. But are you really....do you really forgive me?"

"Of course," Akira lied, forcing himself to smile. Then, adding in a truth to make it more believable, "Besides, if we are fighting each other, it'll only make us weaker when it comes to standing up to Kamoshida. We can't afford to divide ourselves, right?"

Beside him, Ryuji laughed. "Wow man, that's....really mature of you."

Under his breath, he muttered in Akira's ear.   _((I don't know if I could have gone that easy in your--ouch!!))_  He broke off as Akira kicked his ankle cheerfully, getting the hint.

Mishima looked so relieved that it almost made Akira feel guilty for not truly forgiving him. Almost. "Yeah. Yeah of course! I don't know what we can do, but if there's anything I can do to help, I'm in."

_His face is so earnest...._

Akira turned away.

_No. Akira you're allowed to be pissed on your own behalf._

Without looking back, he said to the other two, "Let's go home for now. I think we all need time to think things over. Ryuji, I'll text you, okay?"

He slightly regretted that last bit when, still sniffling, Mishima piped up, "Oh! Let me get your number too, then....er....please?" He complied, jaw clenched silently.

"Okay. Bye for now, guys."

"See ya!"

"B-bye! And thanks again."

He strode off for the train station, feet carrying him as swiftly as they could. He just....needed to get somewhere where he didn't have to control his face. Somewhere he could let himself feel pissed in safety, and get it out of his system.

As he finally settled into a seat on the train back to Yongen-Jaya, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_I swear to god, if that's Mishima already...._

      **Ryuji** : That was friggin weird with Mishima, right?

      **Ryuji** : idk how you handled that with a straight face, man. But you know me by now, I always fly off the handle

      **Ryuji** : anyway...if you need a space to talk shit, just lemme know, okay?  like, you held me back from punching kamoshida and effing up my life even more.  I can try to be there too, yknow.

_Ha._

_Hahaha._

_I thought I was hiding it so well, but I'm pretty transparent, aren't I?_

Akira found himself actually chuckling to himself out loud. Somehow, knowing that Ryuji would accept his actual feelings had taken the bite out of his fury.

      **Akira** : thanks Ryuji. Um, not right now, I kinda just wanna go home and cool off. But maybe later?

      **Ryuji** : I knew it! No way you were fine with him spreading shit about you. I'm pretty pissed myself.

      **Ryuji** : wait.

      **Ryuji** : cooling down.

      **Ryuji** : right. Yeah I get it man, that's cool. Talk to you later then ok?

      **Akira** : definitely

He slid his phone back into his pocket and sighed, a little deflated.

_I'm still....not okay with this. I don't..._

He bit his lip.

_I don't want to be....online._

_I don't want to have more of myself out there like that._

_I'm still pissed,_ he decided firmly. _But I'm glad that....maybe I don't have to hide it after all. If I decide I don't want to._

 


	11. Questionable Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some gay awkwardness, guys, and try not to die inside too horribly.

      **Ryuji** : so today....we're going in, right?

Akira stared at the ceiling, phone clenched above him in his outstretched hand. Morgana batted at his hair from his perch, curled behind his head.

      **Akira** : yes.

      **Akira** : right after school, we'll head into the palace.

      **Ryuji** : ok good. You bringing morganna?

A tiny nose huffed into his bedraggled hair. "'Bringing me'? I'd go on my own anyway! He does know I'm not actually a pet, right?"

"I'm sure he knows."

      **Akira** : yeah, he's coming. See you then. Gotta get ready for school now.

So, today was the day. One way or another, they were prepared to begin the process to end Suguru Kamoshida.

_One way or another..._

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Akira found it impossible to concentrate on class. How could he, knowing what was to come later that day? Instead, he focused on surreptitiously crafting lockpicks at his desk, with Morgana's whispered guidance.

They weren't great. (He grimaced at the small pile of busted scraps of metal, and at his fingers, stained and dusty from filing.) But still, it felt better to be productive in some way. To be prepared.

He gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to concentrate on his working hands, rather than let his mind wander.

_I have no idea what we are walking into today, so what's the point of letting myself analyze it to death?_

_To death...._

He frowned.

_We'll just go in, and figure out what we need to do when we get there. Whatever is necessary. That's...all we can do._

Honestly, he thought he'd be more afraid today. Instead, he felt a little...apart from himself. Grim, resigned.

But then, he'd always been able to push through in a crisis.

_Do what you have to do, process later, right?_

Another attempted lockpick broke in his hands, and, frustrated, he shoved the rest of his tools deeper into his desk as well as he could without making Morgana squawk from the disturbance. He stared at the clock.

_It's almost time...._

Looking back, his eyes fell on the blonde hair of the girl before him. He'd been shocked to see her at school that day, after the trauma of the previous afternoon. But, after she'd confronted Akira and Ryuji during the lunch hour, her presence began to make more sense.

_She's way too keyed in to our actions for my comfort. Not that we were particularly subtle, but still....to try to demand to get in on "whatever we are doing to Kamoshida"....that was a shock._

_I feel for her. After Shiho...._

The memory of the beginning of the girl's fall flashed through his mind, and he blinked hard, willing it away.

_But it's not like she can fight in that other world. She'd only be another person put in danger. It's impossible to explain that to her, though._

Before him, Ann's body language was tense. She, too, seemed to be eyeing the clock, one hand already clenching the strap of her bookbag.

_I hope she doesn't get herself into trouble with a plan of her own. What we're doing....I hope we can end this. But it'll only make things harder if someone else is interfering in the real world._

When the bell rang, she shot him a look of piercing intensity before she rose from her desk. Then she left, not looking back.

_I have a bad feeling about this..._

Full of misgiving, Akira scooped Morgana into his bookbag and headed to the alley to await Ryuji.

_But we can't hold back now. Ann will have to handle herself._

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

_I knew it. I freaking knew it._

Akira felt awful at having shoved Ann back through the palace gates and into the real world, but that was nothing compared to the chagrin he felt over having allowed her to sneak close enough to be accidentally drawn into the cognitive world in the first place.

Aloud, Ryuji echoed his thoughts. "Hmph, some thieves _we_ are. Man, why does it seem like somethin's always going wrong?"

Morgana piped up, weirdly perky considering the situation, "That Lady Ann is pretty astute, after all! She's only one step away from discerning our true identities! And although I'm confident a lady as elegant as she would never stoop to misusing that information..." he paused dramatically, clearly feeling very suave. "I believe it is time to advance another step in your training as phantom thieves! Yes, for to have a "true" identity, you also require a "shadow" identity, aren't I right?"

Lips pursed, looking a little confused, Ryuji asked, "So, you're saying.......?"

"Code names! Clearly, code names! Chosen with a sense of style, a secret identity is crucial in the life of a Phantom Thief!"

Ryuji's face lit up. "Oh hell yeah! Like a super hero! I am so down for that." He thought intensely for a moment, fingering the jagged teeth that ran along the bottom edge of his mask. Then, like a lightbulb had clicked on, "Oh! Oh! I call 'Skull!' Y'know, like my mask?!" He excitedly looked to the others for confirmation.

Akira couldn't help but smile. Despite their dire situation, Ryuji's innocent, genuine enthusiasm was contagious. "Yeah, Ryuji, that's cool! It suits you."

"Right?! Thanks, man! So....what about this guy?"

After some bickering, and a few genuinely horrendous suggestions tossed around, finally they each settled on a name. Ryuji stuck with "Skull," Morgana would be called "Mona," and Akira, as their 'trump card' would be "Joker."

He didn't hate it, but a part of him resented being defined by the power of the Wild Card, when it had already brought him so much uncertainty over his own sense of self.

_Is that all I am?_

_What will I be worth, if I lose that power someday?_

_..._

He felt guilty for being so negative, when his teammates clearly felt clever for having named their leader so accurately. Akira tried to shake it off.

_It's a compliment from them, after all. They don't see the strange and eerie parts of this power. They see it as something that will keep us all safe, right?_

_I can look at it that way. This name._

Names confirmed, they huddled together in a safe room near the castle entrance to go over their plan of attack. For today, they decided, they needed to focus on castle exploration. Morgana insisted that he could sense the presence of a Treasure within, but that it currently was too far away for him to pinpoint a more exact location. Finding that Treasure had to be their priority, because through taking that....

_We'll take his will._

_I'd thought that I never wanted to subject another person to that horrible emptiness._

_But if that is indeed what will happen to Kamoshida. Well. After what he's done, I'll make an exception._

Just before exiting, Morgana took Akira aside to insist upon one additional priority.

"Joker, we can't know what kind of power we'll be up against. To be prepared for all possibilities, you need to diversify your Persona abilities."

_More of them...?!_

Akira frowned at the thought, but he couldn't truly argue against his point. Like it or not, he was the bearer of this power, and in choosing to take this team into a dangerous fight, he'd also taken on the responsibility to do whatever it would take to keep them safe. To get them both through this alive.

_Just....just remember. As long as I have Arsene, then I'm me._

He nodded. "Okay, Mona. I'll make an effort to do so."

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
An hour into the palace, Akira leapt from his hiding place behind an ornate chaise lounge to tear the mask from yet another shadow. As it coalesced, he couldn't help but regret his decision. The Incubus leered giddily, seeming entirely unphased by the sneak attack.

To Akira's left, Ryuji cackled, "Oh. my. god. Is that thing as naked as I think it is?"

_Ughh I can see its--_

_Ew. Just ew._

Akira frowned. "I, uh. Let's go with distance attacks, team." Eyes half-averted, he called upon his newest Persona, Silky, determined to drown it immediately.

A handful of hits later, the Incubus was, blessedly, downed. As Akira prepared a final strike, it raised its hands in surrender.

_Ohh. Ugh, no. **Really...?**_

" ~ H-hey, we can work something out, right?! You really seem like my kind of guy, after all," the creature oozed in a voice as oily as an eel dipped in lard.

_Of all the shadows to want inside my head....this one?!_

Akira blanched. "Uhh, what do I even do?"

Innocently, Morgana insisted, "Well, you accept of course! The more you diversify your power, the safer we will all be!"

 _Well, if you put it that way...._  
_I....I guess??_

Heart full of misgiving at allowing this leering, partially nude demon into his brain, Akira braced himself and performed one small, sharp nod in its direction.

A sick, greasy heat settled into his gut as the new mask flung itself into him.

 **_I am thou, thou art I._ **  
**_We're going to have fun together, aren't we?_ **

_.....fun?_

**_[[ A hand reached for a nervous boy. A smile beamed at him, sure of its rightness. "Don't worry, Aki-kun! It'll be fu--" ]]_ **

He clenched his fist, and shut down an old memory before it could surface. Now was not the time, and he was in no mood to feel vulnerable.

_~ Hey, no need for shyness. Things are better when they're out in the open, aren't they? **Forwardness** can be appreciated, you know._

_....I don't think I like this one._

Akira resolved to make a trip to the Velvet Room to trade away this Persona as soon as he possibly could.

Of course it would take something like this to make him grateful that those twins were willing to slice and dice his psyche for him. He cringed.

"Okay then. It's done. Can we go on, now?" he grumbled, more irritably than he had intended.

Ryuji frowned. "Hey man, you okay?"

_~ Now, now....you can't act like **that**! You'll scare him off!_

_~...It's important to make your friends **comfortable** , after all._

Akira took a deep breath, both to calm his nerves and to give himself a chance to attempt to tamp down the uncomfortably oily new voice inside of him.

_No, I definitely don't like this one at all._

"Yeah, Skull.  Sorry, I'm just....I was tired." He forced a smile. "But I'm doing better now! Let's go."

They moved to round a corner into a larger hall, only to have Morgana leap up and tug them back by their collars. "Wait! Someone's coming!"

They peered around the wall and listened. Sure enough, voices were echoing down from a higher floor.

"H...hey, what in the world are you talking about?! Get your hands off of me!"

_Wait, is that...?!_

"Lady Ann?! Oh no!"

"How the hell'd she get back in here?!" Ryuji sputtered.

She was entirely out of sight, apparently on an upper landing somewhere, but there was no mistaking that indignant voice. Nor was there any doubt about the situation their classmate had fallen into. Armor clanked as a knight conferred with another, "We must return the princess to her place at King Kamoshida's side."

The thieves turned to each other in horror as the struggle continued out of their sight or reach. Akira paled. "We have to get her, but there's no way up from here. I'm not even sure where they're taking her."

"Then we'll split up!" Morgana insisted. "We can clear more ground that way. I'm better at stealth than you two, so I'll head that way on my own. You two backtrack together and see if you can find a way in. Meet me at the safe room we found earlier on the second floor in twenty minutes!"

It seemed as good a plan as any, and with Ann in immediate danger, there was no time to think of a better one.

"Okay. Keep safe, Mona."

"Tch, of course! Don't doubt my skills!" Morgana dashed away from them, and was quickly out of sight.

Uncertainly, Ryuji muttered, "Well, guess we'd better get to scouting. C'mon."

Together they backtracked, and eventually found their way back up to the second floor. Or was it the third? Akira had no real head for mapping, found himself frustrated with his uncertainty.

Apparently Ryuji was in the same boat. "Hey, uhh, did we get turned around?" He leaned against a balcony railing to peer down at the floor below. "I thiiink I know where we are, Joker, but we've gotta--" Akira noticed with a flash of panic that the plaster holding the railing to the wall was crumbling, about to give way to Ryuji's weight as he craned his neck in an attempt to peer around a corner.

**_((CRACK!!))_ **

"SKULL!" Akira lunged forward, grabbing at the back of his friend's leather jacket, but the momentum from the fall in progress was too great, and he only succeeded in throwing himself off balance. Together, they plummeted through the air and tumbled hard to the ground below in a white plume of loose plaster and wood.

_Ughhh. **That** hurt.  I don't think I'm seriously injured though. Guess I'm grateful for all of the heavy carpet in this place._

Akira struggled to reorient himself. As the dust settled, he realized that he and Ryujj were pinned together beneath the remnants of the fallen railing and a scattering of bricks that had been loosened along with it.

Beneath him, the blonde boy muttered in a vague, irritated way, and squirmed, his legs twisted with Akira's into a sort of human pretzel.

They'd been tangled together in the fall, loose mortar in their hair.

_Tangled together._

Akira flushed as he realized just how closely the two of them were pressed together. He twisted in an attempt to buck the remnant of the railing from his back, but the movement only seemed to make matters worse.

_This is....aghhh. This is awkward._

One more attempt, and he managed to shoulder the heavy wood away, but....

_But....he's...we're...._

Ryuji was a disgruntled mess, his hair pasted to his forehead. He coughed, trying to clear plaster and dust from his throat, and the movement only accentuated how bound their limbs and bodies had become in the fall.

_~ Look at him..._

Akira shuddered slightly as an unfamiliar warmth rushed through his body. Eyes narrowed, Akira found himself strangely fixated on his friend's face. His breathing slowed.

_I hadn't noticed before, but he has a few freckles._

His lips were coated wetly from trying to clear them of dust. His hair, usually so purposefully spiked, was completely out of place.....

"~ Well, you're a mess. Let me fix that for you." Akira smirked, his face inches from Ryuji's, and brushed a bit of the boy's bangs back into their usual spiked position.

Ryuji went beet red beneath him, caught mid-cough.

 _~ That's right..._  
_~ ...He looks good flushed like that, doesn't he?_

His hand planted itself firmly on the ground beside Ryuji's head as he lingered, staring down at the blonde.

_If I moved...just another inch...I could..._

He licked his lips.

_I could **what**....?_

A scrap of uncertainty flitted through his eyes as he watched his friend's lips twist into a confused frown.

"Uhhh Ak--um--J-Joker, you know I'm straight, right??"

Akira snapped to reality with the intensity of a cracked whip.

_WHAT._

_What was I doing?!_

_Come on, Akira, this....this is Ryuji!! Your one friend in this fucking place!_

"What?! Yeah, me too." Akira scrambled away, completely and utterly mortified. As he frantically untangled their legs, he narrowly avoided falling on his own ass into a pile of splintered wood.

_Probably?!_

His stomach twisted sickly with embarrassment.

 _Ugh. I don't even know?!?_  
_That's been the last thing on my mind, but I clearly need to be paying more attention??_  
_WhatdidIdowhat **didIjustdo**???_

"I'm so sorry! That was really out of character for me. Please forget that happened." He backed away slowly, a fistful of his own wild and dusty black hair clenched in a hand that was furious with himself. His face was beet red as he recalled...

 _That **fucking**  Incubus_.

_~ Hey, you can't lay all the blame for your actions on something other than yourself, you know. Heh._

_Shut up shut up shut up!_  
_If I've.....if I've screwed up my friendship --!_

Akira couldn't bring himself to look at his friend. Not...not until he knew --

He struggled to regain his composure. "Seriously, please forget it. I think this castle is getting to me or something."

Blessedly, Ryuji finally replied from his seat on the floor, still half-buried in chunks of balcony railing, "Uh yeah man, gladly, haha. Don't sweat it. This world is weird. It is bound to do weird shit to you." But Akira couldn't help but notice that his friend wasn't making eye contact. In fact, he seemed determined to look literally anywhere but in his direction.

Still, he held out his hand, clearly waiting for the now-standing Akira to help him off the ground. "We're still bros like normal, right?"

_Like normal...._

Akira wanted to accept what his friend said at face value, but the more it sank in....what he had just let himself do...

_I--I--I--I had him pinned to the ground! What did I..._

_It felt....._

Realizing that Ryuji was still holding his arm out, Akira breathed, "Of...of course." He gripped his friend's hand and pulled him up.

"Well, all right then!"

Eyes averted, Akira continued as calmly as he could, "I...I don't think we're going to find anything in this wing of the castle. We should head to that safe room and wait for Mona. Hopefully he's had better luck."

As the pair crept through the halls, avoiding shadows, Akira fumed at himself.

_That is the last time I listen to Morgana about accepting a Persona. No one...from now on, no one decides what goes in my head but me._

_I don't like feeling out of control._

_I don't think....I can trust my instincts._

As they slid through the safe room door, Akira resolved to rid himself of this particular problem.

 _That Incubus....and where my mind went..._  
_Whatever that was, it ends now._

Akira pulled himself up on a table and crushed his knees to his chest, arms cinched painfully tight. He closed his eyes, and willed himself into that strange in-between mental space he'd grown to associate with the Velvet Room, and with his Personae...

_[[ In the darkness of his mind, he sought out the Incubus. Following the mental tendrils of that gross, oily heat, it wasn't hard to find._

_He steeled himself._

_(( Those twins told me that I can release a Persona if I need to, right? I can do this. ))_

_Furiously, he directed his intent at his apparently-rogue Persona and insisted, "You.....just....get the fuck out of my head. Right now."_

_The entity in his mind felt....amused. But to Akira's surprise, it didn't seem prepared to fight him._

_"~ Heh. Fine. I can do that. **Consent** is important after all, heh heh heh. But there will always be a part of me within you. That's what I sensed, after all....._

_"~Denying me won't rid you of that. See ya!"_

_Akira's stomach unclenched. It was done. ]]_

The Incubus slipped out of his mind with a sensation of oil gliding through fingers. It made Akira want to mentally shake his hands out. As he returned to himself, he wiped his fingers on his pants reflexively.

_That thing....thought we had something in common?_

_That's...disgusting._

_...._

_I'm disgusting._

He flinched and blinked at a hand waving in his face.

"Uh helloooo? Earth to Joker? Oh good, jeez, man."

Ryuji was standing in front of him looking flustered.

"You were really zoned out dude. I called your name like five times. You....uh....okay?"

Akira cringed.

_Crap. How long was I caught up in my own mind? And he saw me like that. How awkward._

He didn't like the idea that he hadn't been controlling his demeanor.

"S...sorry, Skull. It was just, uh..."

_Maybe be honest?_

"Just Persona stuff? It's hard to explain. But managing these things takes a kind of....concentration sometimes. Sorry if I weirded you out."

Ryuji scratched the back of his own neck awkwardly. "I guess that makes sense...." he muttered slowly. "Just, uh, can you give me a warning next time?"

"Oh. Yeah, I can do that. Sorry, this is so new....I didn't know what it looked like from the outside."

"Well. Uhh.....that's fine then. I guess."

A silence was drawn out that felt out of character for the pair. There was room on the table that Akira was perched on for Ryuji to sit beside him, like his friend normally would, but instead he walked away to lean against a wall.

As time passed, the quiet grew heavier. Ryuji seemed to be ignoring him, choosing instead to stare at the safe room door.

The longer the silence dragged on, the more nervous Akira became.

_Is he....was I being that weird?_

He felt like he should just speak up. Start a conversation. Make things normal. This is Ryuji, after all! But....

_After what I did after our fall...regardless of if he said it wasn't a big deal...._

_Maybe I broke things._

That miserable thought made Akira's face flush, and to his chagrin, he felt a tear well up in his eye. He tried to blink it away, but as more worries spiralled in his head, it fell to trail down his cheek hotly.

_What if he thinks I'm a creepy now? A creepy....gay weirdo? Did I fuck up our whole friendship? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_

Involuntarily, he made an awful, sad choking sound. It startled Ryuji from across the room, who saw his friend's misery before he could hide it away.

Eyes wide. "D....dude, wha...are you okay?!"

_Oh no._

Akira tried to deny it, but instead of words, more tears erupted from his face.

"Oh, shit! Shit. Hey man, hey, what's going on?!" Alarmed by the outburst from his usually unnervingly calm leader, Ryuji rushed to his side.  "Seriously,  you alright?!"

_I......fuck. There's no point, I might as well--_

"Yes--no--I--I don't know..." Akira admitted shakily, wiping his face with the tail of his long coat. "I just--I'm I'm so sorry Ryuji, and I don't--"

He caught his hands beginning their **goddamned** trembling.

**_Ughhhh!_ **

Akira moved to shove them into his pockets and at least partially hide how bad this was, but to his shock Ryuji intercepted them before he could. The boy's calloused hand was wrapped firmly but kindly around his wrist, and he stared down at him, distressed. "Man, I....I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Akira tugged his hands out of Ryuji's grasp and clasped them in his lap, mortified. "I never wanted you to know. It's not like...." another tear fell, and he huffed in frustration at his own weakness. "It's not like you can do anything about how anxious I am. And I'm....I'm used to functioning through it to do what I need to do."

The flimsy wooden table shook as Ryuji settled heavily beside Akira and muttered, "Yeah, I can get that...."

He rubbed his bad leg reflexively. He seemed to be carefully considering what to say next.

"But, like....like you said to me on the roof the day we met...'you shouldn't have to hide that you are in pain.'" He paused, eyeing Akira for a moment. He seemed to be taking in everything -- the tears, the trembling, the disheveled hair. The internal agony.

"You always seem so freaking stoic, I should have known there was somethin' else goin' on in that fluffy head." He smiled a little, and knocked his shoulder into Akira's playfully. "We're teammates, man! And, uh, friends, right?"

_Even after what I....?_

Though his lips were still trembling, Akira nodded. "Y...yeah, we are."

Ryuji beamed at the admission. "So, just tell me, dude. What's wrong?"

 _Can I really....just tell him?_  
_Is it that simple, between friends?_

Akira felt his heart wobble pitifully in his chest as he struggled to find the right words. He couldn't, he just couldn't. He couldn't explain why this was bothering him as much as it was.

 _I'm not...._  
_I feel horrible, but I'm not ready._  
_But I guess I can be honest about one thing._

Finally, in one breath he gasped out "I'm sorry, Ryuji. I just, I, I'm freaked out that I acted weird and messed up our friendship. You said everything was fine, but when we got back here, you barely looked at me, and I--"

Ryuji held out a hand to get him to pause. "Whoa whoa whoa, what, for real?!" To Akira's shock, he chuckled. "That's what this is about? I'm sorry I was distracted. I was watching the door for Mona. I'm just worried about Ann and shit."

 _Ohhhhhhhhh._  
_Akira, you're an idiot.  As always._

The flush of embarrasment that spread across Akira's face made him even less prepared to respond to the bomb that Ryuji dropped next.

"And, uh, about what happened earlier, like I said then, it's fine! I know you're not gay, man, hahaha." Ryuji began to laugh again, but stopped when he felt Akira tense beside him, hands clenching the smooth fabric of his own formal pants. "A....Akira??"

In a small voice, so quiet that Ryuji could barely hear, Akira whispered, "But what if...I am?"

 _Wait did I just say that aloud?_  
_Did I just??_  
_Oh no ohnoohno_

Akira's heart beat so powerfully at the admission that he felt dizzy, the edges of his vision filling with an awful airy static. Ryuji only took a few moments to reply, but for Akira those seconds felt like death.

 _Why did I say that why did I say that why did I_  
_We patched things up and then I say something like that??_  
_Takeitbacktakeit **backtakeit** \--_

"Well, I mean," Ryuji began slowly, "If you are, that's fine too right?"

_?!?!?!?!?_

Akira's mind spun out.

"Like, you're my friend, and you're a badass no matter what. Being....gay...." Ryuji cringed, but it seemed to be more at himself and his own awkwardness than at anything else. "That's not gonna change anything man, I promise! I mean, you know I can't, uh....reciprocate, bein' straight and all, but as long as you're cool with that...?"

_This is...this is really a talk we are having._

_Why is that....a little crushing?_

Akira bit his lip, and blinked back a tear, hopefully before Ryuji could notice its emergence. He glanced at the boy beside him, but with his vision swimming, he could only really make out a yellow and black blur. He blinked again. A concerned-looking blur.

_Maybe I **do** need those glasses..._

His friend had trailed off awkwardly, and all that Akira could do was reply with a sharp nod. That seemed to be enough, however. "Well, alright then! It's all good. But uhh, out of curiosity....uh...are you...? Then...?"

_Am I...?_

Akira froze.

_He's asking if I'm **gay**??_

Akira's mind was a mess. He felt bizarrely floaty and lost, still trying to come back to reality as his heart rate struggled to return to something closer to normal. But but but this.....? Did he owe Ryuji an answer?

_I.....I don't know if I'm even sure myself??_

_~So, tell him that._

A calm, cool breeze blew through his mind, brushing away at least some of the lingering mental angst and exhaustion. Akira leaned into the unexpected reprieve gratefully.

_Silky....I'd nearly forgotten._

_...._

_Right. Maybe it is that simple._  
_He's still here, still talking to me, after all._

He took a few steadying breaths. Ryuji seemed to be waiting patiently, though his foot kept kicking the leg of the table they were seated on. Thunk. ((Thunk.)) Thunk.

Finally, he murmured, "I....I think I might be, but to be honest, I'm really not sure. I just....I don't know."

It didn't feel like enough, but it would have to be. Surprisingly, Ryuji nodded sagely at the statement. "Gotcha. Well, like I said, you're my bro regardless, okay?" He paused for a second, hand in the air, then nodded to himself and clapped Akira on the back.

_This is so awkward._

_But, like, normal awkward, so, good?_

_???_

"Hey, while I'm on the hunt for a girlfriend, maybe we can find you a boyfriend! Hahahaha!"

_Aghhhhhhh Ryuji nooo_

Dying a little inside, Akira buried his face in gloved hands, wiping the last of his tears away. It was harder than he wanted it to be -- leather is not terribly absorbent.

_And thus ends my first maybe-crush.  That I didn't even realize I **had** until I was shot down in the **most embarrassing way possible.**_

_Way to go, Akira._

He cringed. Ryuji was still gingerly patting him on the back.

 _I think you can die, even from normal awkwardness._  
_Yup. This is definitely the end for me._

Ryuji looked like he was going to say something else, (at which point Akira likely would have finally embraced death and melted into the floor from embarrassment) but at that moment Morgana burst through the door, returning from his reconnaissance.

If he saw anything strange in the pair's faces, or in their costumes, still coated white with plaster, the definitely-human chose tact for the moment and ignored it. Or maybe he genuinely had no clue.

_Morgana **is** kind of childlike, in some ways.  Even with his obvious crush on Ann._

"Hey, I know where those voices were coming from now! There's a hallway that was closed off during our earlier exploration that appears to be open. There are signs of a struggle! If Lady Ann is in danger, we have no time to lose!"

Morgana was practically vibrating with anxiety, and Akira forced himself to push aside his teenage awkwardness in favor of stepping up to the more pressing concern of the moment. "...Of course, Mona. Lead the way."


	12. Fire/Those Things Which Cannot be Permitted to Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann awakens, and a disturbing room is discovered....
> 
> Chapters coming a little more quickly at the moment, since we are getting into territory that I've sketched out ahead already. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

The trio of thieves crept down a gloomy hallway, careful to avoid kicking the scattered pieces of armor littering the floor. When Morgana had said "there are signs of a struggle," he'd certainly meant it.

When they reached the door at the end of the hall, it felt....oddly ominous. "Be careful, guys. We don't know what we are walking into. But if they were bringing Ann to Kamoshida, we are almost certainly in for a battle."

Ryuji nodded, crouching into a stealthier stance. "Right."

Akira opened the heavy wooden door the smallest crack, and peered at the room within. At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him -- what was inside was extremely different than the theme of the castle proper.

Pink light flickered from a series of candles set into low iron stands. It cast an unhealthy tinge over everything it touched, making it all look incredibly unreal. He couldn't see into the main part of the room from this angle, but from within he heard.....moaning. And not of the tortuous variety he'd come to expect in the dungeons.

_No.  Can't be hearing what I think I'm hearing._

Spying no enemies, but feeling deeply uneasy, Akira put a finger to his lip to indicate needed silence, and ushered his teammates through the door. As he followed behind them, he heard Morgana whisper a low, "N...no....what is this?"

"That bastard...." Ryuji uttered, leather creaking as a fist clenched. He was clearly just barely restraining himself from rushing in to make a scene, or perhaps simply shouting at the top of his lungs.

Now, he saw what he'd missed, and was sickened. Akira's face turned grey as he took in the row of low couches set along a far wall, and the gyrating topless bodies that occupied them.

They'd found the girls of the volleyball team.

_This is how he thinks of them._

_This is how he thinks of **all of them.**_

Akira held back a wave of nausea, biting down on one gloved finger.

"They're....they're not real. Don't look at them."

"Y...yeah, but in the real world--!"

A chill swept through his body, but he had to stand firm. "But here, they're not real. The only real girl trapped here is Ann, and if we make a scene now, we may never save her. Guys, just....look away. I'm sorry."

Silently, he sent out another pained apology to the real girls represented by these figments of Kamoshida's mind.

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

The three of them forced their gaze ahead, though their eyes were shadowed with horror. If this place was a representation of Kamoshida's mind, of his memories....had he seen every girl on the team like this? Or was that simply all he'd ever thought of them?

 _He only sees them as a pile of bodies._  
_As touchable skin, totally divorced from any soul within._

Akira felt clammy as he continued further into the room in a low crouch, trying but failing to block out the simulated moans of his female schoolmates.

 _I'm not surprised. Not knowing what I know...._  
_But that doesn't stop it from making me sick._

Despite their disgust, their stealth seemed successful. That is, until Morgana tipped his head around a corner in the L-shaped room, and shrieked, "Lady Ann, no!!"

Akira was helpless to stop his teammate from rushing blindly toward whatever he had seen.

"Mona!!"

He rounded the corner himself, Ryuji at his side, both giving up on any pretense of stealth after Morgana's exclamation. What they saw...well, Akira couldn't blame Morgana for charging forward.

Ann was lashed to a wooden X in the rear of the room, head lowered limply, tears staining her face. To Akira's relief, unlike her classmates, she was at least still clothed. Or, wait, _one_  version of her was??

To her right, clinging to Kamoshida's arm, was a near clone of Ann. She tiptoed daintily in bare feet, painted toes squishing into plush red carpet. She was clad only in the scantiest, frilliest pink underwear possible. Akira averted his eyes.

The obvious-fake's eyes were wide with awe at the "King," as she sang out in a deliberately babyish voice, "Trespassers? **So** not cool."

Kamoshida himself clearly felt empowered by the cognitive version of his young student dangling from his arm, as he smirked at the interlopers. "Come to reclaim her, have you? Heh. She's useless compared to **my** Ann."

He trailed a finger down her chin to the hollow of her pale throat. "Why would you want a powerless girl like this? One who....couldn't even stop her friend from committing suicide?" His yellow eyes glittered merrily in the candlelight as he taunted them with her pain.

A tear fell from the bound girl's face, as she whimpered, "Shiho....it's my fault. If only I'd...."

Gleefully, he admitted, "That's right. You wouldn't throw yourself at me, so what did you expect to happen? Of course I needed someone to take your place."

"You sick fucking son of a bitch!!" Together, the trio lunged at Kamoshida furiously, only to be repelled by the swords of his knights, who'd been lingering nearby.

Akira spat blood from his mouth, then shouted himself, "You're a disgusting monster! No part of what you've done was 'normal' or 'expected'!"

" _Shiho_.....Is what happened....does the blame lie on me?..." Ann whispered pitifully.

_No._

Akira couldn't let her complete that train of thought. Their talk that day in the diner....he knew how she'd agonized, but she never should have had to consider something like that in the first place!

He cried out, "Ann, you can't let him blame you! He doesn't have the power to lay that on your shoulders!"

".....What??"

The girl looked up at him in shock, as though noticing their presence for the first time. She shuddered, wrists rotating against their bindings, and her face flinched in pain. "Doesn't....have the power?"

Barely restrained by the knights encircling them, Ryuji joined in. "He's right, Ann! Kamoshida's a **nothing**. Don't give in, we can end this!'

"M...maybe. But, then...."

......

"If he's nothing, then why in the hell did I put up with so much?"

.....

Slowly, she murmured, head bowed, "I don't....I don't understand what's going on here. I don't understand any of this.....but I know...I know in my heart, without being told, that none of this is on me."

More firmly now, gaining some sort of mental momentum, "I know it makes me sick, to see him projecting his desires onto some disgusting doll with my face on it! Trying to make me say things like that with my own mouth....well.."

As she spoke, her wrists strained against their bonds, the skin rubbed raw and ragged. Her body shook from passion and effort.

She looked up, eyes bright with fury. **"I'm not just a body to project your own wants onto. You'll never hear a single damned word you've craved to hear pass from my lips! There's not a single part of my being....that was made....for anyone but myself!"**

A blast of power shot through her body, shattering the last of her bonds. Shimmering heat engulfed her body, scorching the wooden cross that had bound her. Cheap gold paint bubbled and ran down to stain the tacky carpet, as Ann's face was enveloped in a skin of red latex, shaped like the face of a predatory wildcat.

**"Vengeance....so you're saying that's within my power, Carmen? I hear you."**

The boys looked on in awe as one firm hand gripped the ears of her mask, and without a hint of restraint, a guttural howl fell from her lips as she tore it from her face with one brutal wrench. Blood ran into her eyes, down her jaw, stained her teeth as they bared themselves in a smile clearly meant to show just who was now the prey in this situation.

Her own blood joined with the crackling heat emanating from her body in a swirl of power that solidified into a clinging vinyl catsuit.

**"I'll tear you to pieces. Every bit of you that ever touched her, I'll rend and destroy. So, now, I dare you -- come at me!"**

Kamoshida backed away, cowering behind his knights, his hand wrapped around the cognitive-Ann's flaccid wrist.

With this movement, Ann's furious eyes fell on her double and she curled her upper lip in disgust. "A doll like this....using my face? I won't let it exist." With the crack of a whip, her double only had time to mewl a pitiful "Oh...no, so not cool...." before she disintegrated into a puddle of shadowy goop.

Kamoshida, clearly lacking loyalty to his "pet," used this distraction to scurry away in a retreat. The thieves lunged to give chase, only to be barred once again by the troupe of knights.

"Damn it! We'll have to take these guys out."

"Lady Ann, will you fight with us?"

A gout of flame answered that question handily.

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

The battle complete, Morgana tried to convince Ann to leave the palace. "You've had an exhausting day, and you'll need your rest after this ordeal."

"No offense, but I'm done with people talking down to me and assuming I don't know what I can handle. By the way--" She turned to the other boys. "That goes for **all** of you. I guess I get why you didn't want me in here, but that's no excuse now. I'm here, you've explained this place to me, and I understand that fighting here is going to be the surest way to destroy that sick bastard. If you want to kick me out again, you'll have to fight me." She smirked, patting her whip. "And good luck with that."

 _I never wanted to drag her into this..._  
_But really, she has as much of a stake in taking down Kamoshida as anyone. What kind of hypocrite would I be to deny her?_

"Okay, Panther. If you say you can continue on, I'll believe you."

Morgana opened his mouth angrily, clearly intending to argue, but Akira hushed him and reassured, "We are all half-beat after that battle, though. I think it is best if we avoid shadows and fighting as much as possible, and focus on exploring as best we can within the confines of that. If we get to the point where we can't go further while avoiding major battles, then we **will** leave." He turned to the others, seeking a consensus. "Agreed?"

"Wow, man, you sounded like a real leader there, Haha. Yeah, I'm down, if we really are avoiding battle."

Morgana huffed, but relented. "Okay, I'll agree....if this is truly what Lady--ahh--Panther wants...?" He raised his luminous eyes to watch the girl's face with interest.

Brow furrowed, she seemed unsatisfied. "I really need to burn something after everything with that sicko. But, fine. I can live with that."

Together, they returned to the area they'd been exploring when they'd heard Ann being carted away by shadows. Akira hefted a book he'd grabbed on a whim from an odd room earlier.

_"The King Book"_

_Ugh. How grossly self-indulgent._

"This area's pretty quiet. I think if we stay low and quiet, we can split up and each take a look in one of these small rooms off the corridor. See what we can find. I think the door ahead takes a key, but I don't see any way that I can try to pick the mechanism, so if you find anything unusual, like this--" he waved the book in the air. "--snag it and bring it back with you."

"Got it, Joker."

Akira pushed open the ornately carved wooden door into his chosen room.

_A library?_

_Why would this be here? Kamoshida may be a teacher, but he doesn't strike me as the studious type._

He dragged a low, padded ottoman over and propped the door open with it so he could keep an ear out for his friends, and examined the room. So far it looked...nondescript? As he examined book titles, he noticed that they sounded like they'd been written by someone who had heard that books existed and made you seem educated, without ever having actually read one.

 _"Book About France."_  
_"World's Classiest Fiction"_  
_"The Great American Novel"_  
_"What to do When You're Already a King Among Men?"_

_Blech._

He was about to turn away, when Silky's cool voice whispered in his mind.

_~ Wait. There....._

_???_

A breath of wind gusted from his fingertips, rustling loose papers and swirling dust from threadbare book bindings.

_Dust..._

_Oh--!_

**_I can see it._ **

There was an empty slot in the shelf before him where the dust was wiped clean, as though a book had recently been removed. Between " _My Legendary Kingdom"_ and _"Beloved Monarchs Through the Ages,"_ there was space enough for one more book.

Suspicion rising, Akira pulled out _"The King Book"_ and slotted it into place on the shelf. He startled as, unexpectedly, a loud ((CLACK)) rang out from the far wall behind him. He froze, anxious that he'd activated some sort of trap, but as seconds passed and nothing happened, he forced himself to relax.

_Maybe not a trap, then. Some sort of mechanism? But for what?_

Now that he knew what to look for, he easily spied two additional empty spaces on the library's shelves.

_If we fill those, then?_

Seemingly right on cue, Ryuji called from the hall in the world's loudest whisper, "Hey, Joker, where're you at? I've got something."

Akira poked his head through the open door and ushered him in. Sure enough, in his friend's hands was another book. _"The Slave Book."_ Akira's mouth turned down at the unsurprising implications. He found the book's home, and...((CLACK!))

Beside him, Ryuji asked, "What do you think we're opening'?"

Akira shook his head. "There's no way to know. But if he went to these lengths to hide it, it has to be something important..."

Ann strode through the door then, Morgana on her tail. A look of distaste souring her face, she dangled a third book from between two pinched fingers. "You wanted more of these, right?" she inquired drolly.  "I made the mistake of looking inside this one, and....let's just say I regret it."

Akira glanced at the title. _"The Queen Book."_

_Yeah, I suspect that Kamoshida's manifesto on women would have to be pretty disgusting._

He inserted the book, and felt a surge of success as a series of clangs echoed through the fourth wall of the library, evidently emanating from a mechanism hidden in the wall that opened a hidden door.

The hidden room was painted in a unsettlingly familiar, sickly pink light. In the center loomed a low, heart-shaped bed, draped in velvet and scattered with stereotypical rose blossoms.

_Does he....does he truly think his shitty fantasies are **romantic?**_

_The walls...there's something about them._

The walls were different. Not stone, not library shelves, not heavy drapery. Akira squinted in the darkness, trying to bring the edges of the room into focus. When he succeeded, it felt like a cold fist had wrenched his stomach.

Plastered on every wall, on every surface..were photographs.

Polaroids of Shiho Suzui.

Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere this room was a depraved shrine, built to house hundreds of lewd and illegal photographs of the same frightened and miserable girl.

Of hunched, pale shoulders.

Of a school uniform crumpled on a tile floor.

Of.....

"Shiho....." Ann whispered, taking it all in with eyes widened in horror. She looked entirely overwhelmed, any fury tempered by true empathy and pain as she was slapped in the face by what her friend had been put through.

The cold in his gut spread as realization set in.

_He built himself a fucking monument._

_A monument to what he did to Shiho Suzui._

_And filled it with pictures she had no choice in being a part of._

_...._

_I'll **kill him**._

His eyes flickered as he spun in place, taking in the scope of the depravity. Every wall. Every surface. The bedpost, the shelves, the ceiling, the--

_Pictures, pictures, pictures, pictures_

_"Why?! Why the fuck do people do shit like this!?"_ When Ryuji, who'd been grimly staring at his own feet, jumped in alarm, Akira realized he'd yelled that aloud, but couldn't bring himself to care.

Voice shaking with fury, he decided, "I'm going to burn this place to the ground."

His decisiveness seemed to shake his frozen friends out of inaction. In a miserable whisper, Morgana said, "It'll just regenerate the next time we enter....at least, I'm pretty sure."

 **"Then I'll burn it again!!"** Akira shouted, startling the other three with the force of his voice.

"Joker..." a hushed voice breathed. His friends were shocked by the boy's wide eyes, and the breadth of emotion leaking through his usually carefully placid exterior.

Akira continued, voice cut to a razor's edge, "I'll burn it as many times as it takes. If they're here, these polaroids also exist in the real world, right?"

Disgust and horror dawned on Ann and Ryuji's faces. Downcast, Morgana admitted, "That's likely true, yes."

"Then we'll destroy those too. Pictures like these....they can't be permitted to exist."

Ryuji, uncertain, "Not that I disagree with you....But if we have to break into his house in the real world, that'd be a crime, yeah?"

Akira's fist clenched as he angled himself for a fight. He'd argue his case, and if arguing didn't work...

_Then I'll do it anyway._

But before he could open his mouth, Ann shoved past him. She'd been nearly silent until that moment. Processing her own deep grief and horror. But now....

She whirled to face her companions.  Tears that were flung from Ann's face from the movement evaporated into the stagnant air almost instantly, as her fiery rage bubbled on the surface in a very literal and visceral manner. 

She exclaimed, "What, and what we are doing now **isn't** criminal?! At least technically? Joker's right! I can't....I cant let him use the memory of Shiho's body like that." Tears welled up in her eyes at the horrid thought.

"I want to give her the peace of knowing that she's in control of who she shares her body with, every day, for the rest of her life!" Heaving with passion. "The next time I see Shiho, I need to be able to look her in the eye and know that I did everything I could to help return that power to her!"

Ryuji shut his mouth. There was no arguing with the wild look in her eye. Her resolve.

"Yeah, Panther.  Of course you're right."

"Yes. Even if breaking and entering is criminal, the real crime is the existence of...of this....in the first place, Panther!"

Decisiveness solidified through the group.

_Do they understand, then?_

**_"Even into hell itself..."_ **

_Although I wonder, was I the only one who made **that** promise?_

Emboldened now that all of the thieves seemed to be on the same page, Morgana exclaimed, "Right! This is in the true spirit of phantom thieves! We'll steal back the will and peace of mind of a fair lady!"

_Childish..._

_....but at least he seems to somewhat understand. It's enough._

"Let's get out of here. I can't breathe in this place."

As the thieves backed out of the disgusting den, Akira and Ann nodded to each other in silence. Each calling upon the power of fire, they released their fury. Flames licked up the walls, charring the edges of photographs that never should have existed. Not in this world or in reality. As the room filled with black smoke, the pair turned away, satisfied.

For now.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

_[[ In reality, a man rifled through his bedroom desk in a panic for a certain nondescript cardboard box._

_(( It's gone, it's gone, who took it?! If I've been found out, I-- ))_

_Shoving aside a folder of unfinished college recommendation letters (they'd been undeserved, after all, those track team shits...) his eyes finally settled upon what he had feared was missing._

_\--!!_

_"Good. Heh. Good, it is still here....I don't know why, I thought...." His breathing still hard and heavy, his body seemed to betray that somehow, he wasn't truly as reassured as his words implied. But that was something he'd refuse to admit. Still, he returned the box to its hiding place._

_(( Good. These belong to me, after all. They were given to **me**. It wouldn't do to have them spread around. ))_

_Panic transformed into gloating._

_Why had he worried? He'd done nothing wrong, after all. What's wrong with going after what you deserve? With being **rewarded**?_

_There's nothing wrong with that at all. ]]_

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

_[[ In the dead of night, padded paws stole through an open window. With a nose for "treasure," (though shuddering internally at designating what he was searching for as such), the thief located his prey with ease._

_He pushed a small cardboard box through the window, into the waiting hands of his accomplice. Together, loathe to linger, they hurried into the darkness._

_Clipped, to the point, "This it, Mona?"_

_Unhappily, "Yeah. That's it."_

_After hurrying through the damp midnight streets, they darted into a back alley, eyes searching for a way to dispose of their spoils._

_"There!" A cat-shaped-creature batted at a dented trash barrel, hidden in a far corner._

_His companion nodded silently, tossing the box in. In the darkness of the new moon, a single flame flickered into being from the lighter he'd pulled from his pocket. Holding it to a scrap of newspaper retrieved from the can, the fire grew, illuminating his face for a brief instant, cast orange and livid._

_Eyes wide enough to show their whites danced merrily above the flame as the paper was reunited with the rest of the trash. A sharp, bitter smile revealed teeth in the dark, while the barrel and its contents ignited._

_Whatever had been in that cardboard box was swiftly swallowed by cleansing fire._

_The smaller thief turned to leave, but his companion was frozen in space, entranced by the wavering flames. In the dark of night, the boy's slender frame cast a shadow on the alley wall that twisted and wrenched itself in the firelight. It seemed to take on a life of its own._

_Contorting in agony...._

_Snakelike, undulating beyond the form of a boy._

_Surely it was a trick of the light. Or of the mind, after a terrible, stressful day._

_Surely....but....._

_Combined with the look of wretched awe on the boy's face, it was unnerving. He shook himself, fur puffed out anxiously, and tore his eyes from the wall._

_Forcing himself forward, he clawed at an ankle. "Come on!" he hissed. "We need to get out of here, before someone catches on. If we are caught here, it'll all be--"_

_"For nothing." a hollow voice finished for him. Arms reached down to scoop him up. Freezing cold...the fire hadn't warmed him at all, it seemed._

_As they exited the alley into the unnervingly silent street, a slender hand stroked his head. Normally he'd have fought that, but in this moment....he was strangely comforted by the reminder that his accomplice was simply human._

_Sometimes a shadow is just a shadow, after all._

_They crept home under dim orange streetlights, the scent of ashes in their hair. ]]_


	13. Crepes/The Shadow of Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half fluff, half angst. Working to wrap up the Kamoshida arc!

With a larger team, the group was emboldened to explore the Palace in earnest. For three days, the Thieves met daily in a dreary alley to slip out of reality and into their teacher's horrid dreams. The world continued to spin, unaware of their exertions.

On the last of those three days, it was nearly dusk when a pile of disheveled students and a bedraggled ball of fur flopped to the concrete, exhausted.

"I can't believe we found it." Ann uttered, astonished. "I mean, even if it wasn't really 'it,' just some strange...glowing....jellyfish-like thing."

Morgana padded to her side, reassuring, "But it will appear, I promise you. I know what I sensed. Now all that's left..."

Akira grabbed a fistful of gravel from the ground at his side, and slowly let the pebbles drop to the ground from his hand, one by one. "Is to send the 'calling card.' We've got to make him aware that we are coming for him."

"But isn't that dangerous?" Ann wondered.

"Probably. If it is, does that change things for you? For either of you?" Akira examined his friends.

Ann shook her head grimly.

Ryuji exclaimed, "Hell no! We didn't fight this hard to chicken out now! Oh, by the way," he grinned sharkily, "I totally call making the calling card! I've got so many good ideas bouncing around in my head!"

Akira couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as Ann muttered skeptically, "Are you really sure you can handle that....?"

_Hey. Ryuji may not be a model student, but he's not stupid, and he's fought just as hard as any of us._

Her doubt irked Akira, and he doubled down on being upbeat to make up for it.

"Of course he can! You'll do great, Ryuji." To really sell it, he threw in a thumbs up. It seemed effective!

"Yeah, man! Just give me a couple of days and I'll have it ready. I promise it'll be great. And then we'll take that asshole down! Go team!" The blonde pumped a fist in the air, clearly riled up by the idea.

Ann stared up at the grey sky, clouds reflected in her wide blue eyes. "Go team, huh?" She chewed her lip. "That reminds me. If we're going to be a team, then there's something thing we need to do."

"Huh? What's that?" Propped up on one bloody-knuckled hand, Ryuji turned to stare.

"We need to bond! I know next to nothing about Akira here, and Ryuji, I haven't hung out with _your_ dumb ass since middle school."

_That's right. They've known each other for ages, even if they fell out of touch._

_Does that make **me** the odd man out?_

"Hey, Ann, I resent that!" Ryuji grumbled.

Sticking out her tongue, Ann cheekily replied, "Can't argue it though, can ya? Anyway, the weekend is coming up. I suggest we dedicate at least one day to getting to know just who we're working with."

Morgana, his eyes starry at the prospect of more time with Ann, trilled, "Yes, that's a fantastic suggestion Lady Ann! When you are fighting, and lives are on the line, you need to trust the ones that will have your back."

She laughed, face crinkling happily, and patted a joyous not-cat on the head. "Exactly! You've got it, Morgana!"

Not convinced, Ryuji muttered, "I mean, yeah, I guess....and it's not like I've got anything better to do this weekend. But what exactly did you have in mind for 'bonding'?"

"Well...I want to find a gift for Shiho. For when she wakes up. Because she's _going_ to wake up." Ann glared at the boys as if challenging them to contradict her, but even if they'd been inclined to, neither would have dared.

Things became uneasily quiet. After a few moments spent staring at his already-scuffed new school shoes, Akira realized that if the conversation was going to start again, he'd have to be the one to do it.

"So...gift shopping?" Akira lead awkwardly. "I have no idea where to shop in the area, so you'll have to be my tour guide."

Ann glanced up at him, then smiled, appearing grateful. "Oh, that's right. You're not just new to Shujin, you're new to the whole city, aren't you Akira?"

He nodded.

"Well, that won't be a problem! I know all of the best shopping spots in the area, so it's fine if you don't know your way around yet. It'll be an adventure!"

_I feel like they'd have an easier time getting around without me. But I guess that would defeat the purpose, right?_

_Right._

"Ughh, I mean I'm down to find something for Shiho, but how is that bonding?" Ryuji complained. Then, his face lit up. "Oh, oh, I know! Let's go to Shibuya! There's a shit ton of shops down there, and I want to take you guys to check out this airsoft place."

As an aside to Akira, he added, "That's where I bought that model gun that I brought into the Palace. Guy who runs it is a little sketchy, but he's got some cool shit! There will definitely be something there that we can use for fighting."

Akira perked up at that bit of information.

_That could be useful. Anything that'll help keep them safe._

_And if Ryuji thinks the place is cool--_

"I'd like to check that place out. So, are you a regular there?"

"Ehhh not really? Man, some of the really hardcore enthusiasts there are kinda intimidating, to tell you the truth."

"Intimidating, huh? Don't worry, I'll protect you from the big bad toy gun fiends." Akira stuck his tongue out to make it clear that he was teasing, and Ryuji punched his shoulder, grumbling about how he could handle himself perfectly well, thank you very much.

_That could have been awkward, but it wasn't. Maybe things are back to normal for us, after....the Persona That Shall Not Be Named._

_Well, as normal as things can be._

_I'm glad._

"Airsoft, huh?" Ann wondered. "Yeah, I can do Shibyua. And oh!! Actually that's perfect! I know this great little crepe shop in the area that I've been dying to go back to. We can head there when we're done!"

"Aww, but I can't eat crepes..." Morgana whined.

Plans set in stone, the team parted for the day, promising to meet at Shibuya station Saturday morning.

On the train to Yongen-Jaya, now separated from his friends after a long and draining day, reality and exhaustion set in. Akira felt dazed, every muscle twitching and aching. He closed his eyes and gave in to the gentle motion of the train.

_Bonding, huh?_

_I've been so drawn into the fighting, and into my own head, I feel like I'm beginning to forget that my own hope had been to simply live life as a normal teenager here._

_That goal...It's been slipping through my fingers, like sand. Bit by bit, so subtly that I barely noticed. So much has changed, and it's only been, what? Not even two weeks?_

_..._

_I should be happy for a simple day out with those two. And, part of me is. But another side of me is frustrated, and feels like we are simply losing momentum. We located the treasure, after all. We should finish this._

_Finish **him.**_

Akira shook his head, then settled more heavily into his seat. This wasn't a problem he'd be able to sort through in one train ride. In this rare moment of quiet, he could feel the solid rhythm of Morgana's breathing through the canvas bag pressed against his side.

_Asleep again? I guess that makes sense. He must be exhausted._

_We all are._

He snuck one pale hand through the zipper of his bag, and threaded his fingers through soft fur. Morgana snuffled in his sleep at the disturbance, but continued his nap.

_Maybe we need a day of rest, then._

_A day to remind ourselves of the 'normal" we are fighting for._

_There has to be a middle ground for us._

But in his heart, he couldn't bring himself to accept that thought. Not for himself, at least.

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
_[[ Beneath worn sheets, a boy tossed and turned in the night, black hair pasted to his brow with cold sweat. A wet nose nuzzled his cheek as if concerned, but to no effect. A small black shape turned away in the darkness and slunk from the bed, perhaps to find somewhere more peaceful to sleep._

_In his dreams...._

_A girl, gliding through the air, sparks falling from her fingers. A sick wet thud, embers blooming into a puddle of blood that soaked through a white blouse, that stained the ground below. Grey eyes turned glassy as the blood ignited like spilt oil, engulfing her._

_((THUD))_

_Another body on the ground. Long blonde hair unfurled like crimson-kissed ribbons, obscuring all but a delicate nose._

_((THWUP))_

_Fur, matted and limp, sinking into the earth._

_((SMACK)) A single white running shoe flew across the courtyard and bounded into the grass, useless now. Deep brown eyes seemed to gaze at nothing, then blinked, and turned to implore a frozen boy. Chapped lips moved, stained red. Fingers reached, spasming, screaming "helphelphelphelp" in frenetic motion._

_((Move. Move. Help, why can't I move?!))_

_Blue and brown and grey eyes filled with terror as flames rose, but the boy could only look on uselessly as his body refused his commands._

_Mournfully, ages passed, and he was left with nothing but ashes. They drifted pitifully down to land on his shoulders like ruined grey feathers. He wept. The fire raged on, uncaring._

_A viciously hard, icy hand dug into his shoulder from behind. It crushed the fragile petals of ash, and they dissolved, ruined at last. The boy could not see the hand's owner, but he felt it. The menace born from grief and fury and the desire to transform, to be what had been needed._

**_"You think you can avoid damnation? You're a fool, and this is what that will get you."_ **

_A voice as bitter and unwanted as funeral coffee._

_The boy shook, and, from his trembling, realized he'd finally been released from his desperate paralysis. He rushed to the funeral pyre, digging for life or hope or bare bones with too-tender hands, now scorched by embers._

**_"As you wish. Be who you will, for them. Be the mirror that shows their every smile. But when the time comes in which the acceptance of hell seems like a pittance....I'll be who you turn to."_ **

_Unheeding, the boy dug and dug, though his hands burnt away, flesh joining the rest of the ashes. Reduced to mere bones, he curled himself into the pyre and slept. ]]_

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
Friday at school was a grey day. Eyes shadowed, Akira forced himself through the motions, shaky from the caffeine he'd ingested in an attempt to make up for waking up at dawn, and outright refusing to allow sleep to reclaim him.

_Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be better._

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
It was. Mostly.

It was hard to greet his friends with a smile, after watching them burn away in a horrifyingly vivid nightmare. When he could still feel fragments of bones clutched between his fingers.

But the sun was shining, and so was Ann, and there was no arguing with either.

"Hey man, take this and wake up a little, would ya? You look like the walking dead!" Ryuji clapped a caffeinated soda into Akira's hands, and the boy gratefully accepted it. "I can't have you spacin' out and leaving me alone to deal with this."

" **Deal** with what?" Ann grumped, but teasingly. "I'll have you know that the two of you should be grateful to be given a shopping tour by an up and coming model such as myself!"

"Lady Ann is a model?!" Morgana squeaked from Akira's bag.

The blonde winked. "Yup! Not to brag or anything, but I've even got another magazine shoot coming up. Which means that my time is _worth_ something, and you should consider yourselves lucky that I'm choosing to spend my Saturday with you. Now come on!"

Literally jumping at the invitation, Morgana leapt from the bag to wind his way between Ann's feet as she headed off into downtown Shibuya. Akira and Ryuji trailed behind, Ryuji grumbling good-naturedly. His presence slowly put Akira at ease, and he forced the last of his worries out of his mind.

_This is going to be a good day._

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

_[[ A grizzled man stared bemusedly after the gaggle of teens who had just exited his shop._

_"I definitely shouldn't have trusted those kids with the package. But fuck, what else was I gonna do, with these damn cops breathing down my neck?"_

_He smirked at the suited men across the counter who were trying, and failing, to appear intimidating. Failing at least when compared to their attempted quarry._

_"Well, whatever. I can make the gun again if I need to. Time to play with these useless suits." ]]_

 

_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

 

 

Stretching out in the slowly cooling air of late afternoon, Akira reached to shove the suspicious paper sack deeper into his bookbag.

_What was that Iwai guy thinking? He--we were one step away from being involved with the cops!_

His heart skipped a beat just considering how close they'd come, but he managed to keep his composure in front of the other two teens.

_It really does look like a real gun though. Huh. Maybe we can...._

His thoughts ambled on as the trio strolled through a side street toward what Ann insisted was her "fourth favorite crepe shop." _((How many "favorite crepe shops" does this girl have?!))_ Morgana had left shortly before, citing lack of room in the bookbag and his inability to digest crepes as reasoning to wander Shibuya on his own for a while.

At the shop's open-air ordering window, Ann took charge and ordered for all three. "Three sweet cream crepes please!"

"Just like last time, right, miss?" The worker grinned at her mischievously. "And what will you two have?"

Looking a little embarrassed, Ann waved her hands and insisted, "Oh, no, no, that's all. One for each us us! Because that's....how many crepes....people eat." she finished lamely.

"Hey man, no shame in bein' able to pack them away. Honestly I'm impressed. Shit, there's no way I could handle that much sugar."

Akira tried to imagine it, and chuckled. "You'd be bouncing off the walls from the sugar rush, huh?"

"Preeeeeeetty much, dude. It's not a pretty sight."

Akira almost said something about what else was a pretty sight, then forced his mouth closed, ears red.

_Damn it, brain. Things are back to normal now. Just....don't._

It was like his minor panicked realization in the Palace earlier in the week had flipped a switch in his brain, and he was seeing every interaction completely differently. He worried that he needed to censor himself now, in situations where **before** -pinning-his-new-best-friend-to-the-ground, he never would have thought twice.

_This sucks. I don't know how to act...._

His anxious wondering was interrupted by Ann exclaiming, "Oh, oh guys! It's the Golden Hour, we totally need to take a group picture!"

"The golden what now?" Ryuji grimaced, staring at his watch in confusion.

"The Golden Hour! It's the hour before dusk when the light is perfect for portraits! I guess you guys wouldn't know this stuff, huh? Anyway, come stand next to me and I'll take a group selfie!"

Ann smiled wide, clearly unprepared to take 'no' for an answer.

But Akira, taken off guard...

_Heart beating beating beatingbeatingbeating_

**_[[ ......... ]]_ **

He blanked. He found himself following Ryuji to Ann's side, but he wasn't sure if-if he was okay with--this was happening too quickly.

_This is normal, right? A normal thing. It would be weird to say 'no'. Just go along with it, or they'll think you're--_

Ann chirped happily, "Okay, almost ready. By the way, are you guys on InstaSpam? I can tag you!"

_Wait, **no--**_

**_No no no nope_ **

Akira blanched, and pulled away from under Ryuji's arm to step out of the photo. "What? No, I--I stay off of social media. Uh how about I take the photo for you guys?!" He grabbed for Ann's phone, but she yanked it out of his reach, laughing.

"Akira, it would kind of defeat the purpose of a group photo if you're hiding behind the camera! Don't worry! I'm a pro, and can totally angle it to fit us all on."

"N.....no, really, I--"

With faux-shock, Ann teased, "Don't tell me you're camera shy! Come onnnn, I can tell that you're plenty photogenic! Those huge grey eyes are begging to be captured on film!"

_She's not listening. She **won't** listen._

_Heart beatingbeating **beatingbeating**_

_I don't want to be rude--I--I don't want to ruin the day we just had, but....!_

Akira's fist gripped his pants as he struggled to find a reasonable excuse to get out of this situation. Ann seemed completely oblivious to his discomfort, but Ryuji's eyes darted down to Akira's painfully clenched fingers, and a knowing look flashed through his eyes.

He stepped up to the plate. "Hey, Ann, I mean if this guy doesn't want his picture taken, that's okay, right?"

_\--!_

Relief flooded Akira's mind. He'd never had someone intervene for him like this before.

As he caught Ryuji's eye, his friend nodded at him subtly, as if to say, "Don't worry, I've got you."

"Huh?" She looked surprised. "Oh, yeah, I guess. Was I pushing too hard? It's just such a normal thing...."

 _Is she really okay with it?_  
_Thank you, Ryuji. Freaking thank you._

Just knowing that he wasn't going to be forced into it allowed Akira to take a breath and parse out just what had made him unhappy about the situation. It wasn't really the photo itself...

"Hey, Ann...." he spoke up, fiddling with his glasses. "I don't really mind the picture, I just....don't....can't....I don't want photos of me up on social media."

He felt lame as he offered the best explanation he could. "You can't really control where they go, and I already have a public image issue, right? Ha.."

Ann looked a little flustered, but still nodded in acceptance. "Oh....um, okay, I can crop you out I guess. Would that work?"

"Yeah! That's totally fine. Thanks. Sorry for making this weird." He tried to defuse the awkwardness with humor. "Heh, anyway, you wouldn't want to tarnish your modeling image by mixing it up with such a dangerous criminal, right?"

"I mean, I'm sure you're fine. It's not like you're well-known!"

He cringed.

_.....right._

Together the three posed in front of the crepe shop's adorably decorated window, Ann throwing up a classic peace sign. Akira kept to the edge of the picture (all the better for cropping), but, knowing his needs were going to be respected after all, the smile on his face was genuine.

Ann took what must have been dozens of photos in a truly impressive rapid fire. She flicked through them, grimacing, deleting, until finally she settled on one and declared, "Perfect!" She flashed her phone in the boys' direction.

_Huh. It really is a pretty good picture. They really seem like they're having a great time. Ryuji looks-- **nope** , nope shutting **that** thought down. Anyway._

_Having friends....this is **real** , isn't it?_

"Hey, Ann, would you text me a copy?"

"Yeah, of course!"

From the counter behind them, a voice called out "Three sweet crepes, for Takamaki!"

"Ooh, perfect timing! Our order is up!"

They settled into a trio of spindly bistro chairs to devour their sugary dinner, initially in blissful silence. But halfway through her crepe, Ann appeared to have something on her mind. She tapped the table a few times thoughtfully with one sharp, manicured fingernail.

Finally she turned to Akira and asked, "So...what we were talking about earlier. What's up with you being a 'criminal,' anyway? What did you even get in trouble for? I heard the rumors of course, but I think we **both** know how those can spin out of control at Shujin."

Ryuji perked up at this, clearly also interested in hearing Akira's side of the story.

**_[[ Three drops of blood on the concrete. A woman, trembling, but on whose behalf? "Damn brat, I'll sue!! ]]_ **

Akira flinched at the unexpected memory.

_This is not my favorite topic. But I know so much about their own troubles, I guess it is only fair to share some of my own. The ones that are relevant, anyway._

Akira took a breath. As casually as possible (and around mouthfuls of crepe) he recounted the events that had lead to him having to spend a year in Tokyo.

"Are you serious? But you were trying to help that woman! What is _wrong_ with the police, that they couldn't see that?"

"Damn it man, that's seriously fucked up."

"But what about your parents? Why send you to Tokyo, I just don't--" Akira choked on his crepe, and Ann halted herself at the pained look that flashed across Akira's face. "I'm sorry. Sore subject?"

**_[[ ........... ]]_ **

_Shut up. Not here._

With deliberate nonchalance, Akira answered, "Yeah. I....don't want to talk about it. Let's just say that they didn't appreciate having attention drawn to our family, and thought it would be best if I spent this year on my own."

"Whoa, man, that's rough! I'm sorry."

Akira shook his head. "Don't be. To be honest...." He looked around himself at the busy city streets. Laughing couples, plastered posters for upcoming art exhibitions. Lights and movement and magic. All of the vibrance he'd never experienced in his small home town.

"I think being here in Tokyo is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I had no idea what to expect going into it," he admitted. "I was pretty sheltered, and to be honest, I was terrified of leaving what was familiar. But.....despite everything....there's so much more freedom here. And, hey," he smirked, "You guys are pretty cool too."

"Hey, right back atcha, man!" Ryuji laughed as he bumped his shoulder into Akira's. "Life's gotten a thousand times better since you showed up!"

"Haha, I feel like we are still all getting to know each other, but I have to agree. I think this is going to be good!" Ann concurred.

"So, if you're not livin' with your folks, where **do** you stay, anyway? I've seen you get on the train for Yongen-Jaya, but that's about all I know."

Akira nodded. "Yeah, that's right. I've got a room in the attic of this coffee shop, LeBlanc. It's a cool place. Sakura-san, the guy who owns it, agreed to take me in for the year. Why the hell he'd subject himself to that I don't know. At first I was worried he'd be a bit of a hardass, but I'm beginning to think he's more of a softy than he wants to let on."

"Wait, you live in an **attic**?!"  Ryuji looked genuinely concerned about his friend's living arrangements.

Akira shrugged.  "It's really not as bad as it sounds."

"Yeah, it's worse!" A tiny traitorous voice piped up from beneath their table. Morgana had returned from his walkabout to rat him out, apparently. "I'm pretty sure his cobwebs have cobwebs. And you really need to do something about that dead plant in the corner. Oh, and another thing--"

Akira moved to smother his furry roommate. "Okay, okay Morgana I get the hint! There's no need to say any more!"

Ann laughed at their struggle. "So you two are getting along pretty well, huh?"

"Hmph!  Possibly, but that attic is totally unsuited for one such as myself."  Morgana's eyes sparkled with another thought.  "Maybe I should move in with you, Lady Ann!"

Unimpressed by his attempt, she replied, "Uhhh no. You'd just get lost, buried under a pile of dresses and fur coats."

"F-f-fur coats??" A look of traumatized horror dawned on Morgana's tiny face as he clearly imagined Ann living in a pile of the skin of his own people.

Realizing her error, Ann flailed and insisted, "Ohmygod, no, fake fur, it is fake fur, I'd never!"

Akira couldn't help but laugh fondly at the ridiculousness of it all. He'd been skeptical about the potential bonding powers of a day out shopping, but....watching them all, even when they were bickering, warmed him in a genuine way.

_So this is friendship._

_I'll do whatever it takes to keep them smiling like this._

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
_[[ In the dead of night, a girl carefully vacuum sealed two fur coats and a pair of fur-lined gloves. She stashed them as far beneath her bed as she could reach. "Juuuust in case." ]]_


	14. Cold Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamoshida battle, and the start of ~something~ going wrong with Akira.

_Today. Today it ends._

Akira heaved his bookbag higher onto his shoulder as he eyed the gaggle of Shujin students gathered around the bulletin board, the other two Thieves at his side.

_Who knew 20,000¥ worth of medical supplies would be this heavy? They'd better be worth it, though I have my doubts about that doctor._

He gagged a little, recalling the horrible slug-like texture of the concoction he'd forced down his throat the previous evening, after agreeing to be a medical guinea pig in exchange for questionable pharmaceuticals.

_Pretty sure this isn't what Sakura-san had in mind when he suggested I go in for a "check-up." But, if they work..._

The muttering of the other students grew louder and more distinct.

_"The 'Phantom Thieves of Hearts'?"_

_"Did Mr. Kamoshida really do something bad? I mean I've heard rumors, but...."_

_"This has to be some weird hoax! Just ignore it!"_

_"Are these cards threats? But it's not like you can really 'steal a heart'....."_

Their voices had carried far enough to reach the faculty office, drawing the attention of the teachers within, including....

 _Kamoshida_.

Akira felt his friends tense beside him as they all watched their nemesis storm over to the bulletin board, shoulders hunched. He froze, taking in the corkboard covered in vivid red cards, pasted again and again and again, each bearing his name and his crimes.

His fingers flexed angrily, and he roared, "JUST WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" slamming his broad forearm into the wall to dislodge as many as he could in one swipe.

Calling cards fluttered to the ground in a rain of red, still seeming to admonish him as they fell. Akira watched a few students stuff cards into their pockets before scurrying away.

_Heh. He can't hide now, no matter what he--_

_"YOU."_

Kamoshida's eyes had fallen on the trio of Thieves, projecting pure fury and malice.

"Did **you** have something to do with this?!" He shook a fist, red paper clenched and ruined within.

Akira smirked. "Seems to me like you did it to yourself."

Ann sucked in breath in surprise, and released it in a small, grim laugh. "Hah. Yeah, nothing could be more true than that."

On that ominous note, the final morning bell rang, and the teens turned their back on their foe. They walked to class, knowing their true battle lay elsewhere that day.

 _Soon_.

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

_This isn't good._

_Fuck!!_

_I thought we were prepared, but...who knew a person's shadow could transform into something so grotesque and powerful?!_

Akira breathed heavily, preparing himself to dive back into battle. He'd covered his friends as best he could, but they were all clearly flagging, and with a loss of momentum and energy, movements were getting sloppy.

_I counted on **us** being able to restore ourselves, after I handed out medical supplies to everyone, but to think he'd be able to cannibalize his memories of those girls to restore himself.. **...tch...**_

They'd thrown everything they had into taking Kamoshida down quickly, only to watch in horror as he devoured a forkful of writhing female bodies and returned to full health. Now, they focused their efforts on destroying his healing supply, but Akira worried that, even if they managed that, they wouldn't have enough left in them to take him down again.

_But we have no choice! Ahh--!_

He spied an opening for a perfect final strike on the golden trophy...but he'd never make it himself in time. "SKULL! NOW!"

He watched Ryuji dash in, tire iron raised, and wrench his shoulder to smash the iron bar into the side of Kamoshida's cup of girls. Elated, his heart swelled as the chalice disintegrated, and Ryuji crowed, "Oh **hell** yeah!"

But elation turned to horror as Kamoshida flailed in fury and jabbed his trident-like fork full-force into Ryuji's ribs. A sickening ((CRACK)) split the air as the boy flew across the room, thudding along the ground like a skipped stone.

 **_No!_ **  
_And I--I sent him in there--!_

"Shit! **RYUJI**!!"

Akira felt his heart twist from purpose gone wrong.

_**I** did this. I decided how we'd fight him, and..._

Far out of his reach, brown eyes went wide with pain, and a black-gloved hand reached for Akira feebly, then dropped to the ground, limp. A blood-filled mouth went slack. Eyelids fluttered closed, and despite a desperate shout from Ann, they remained shut. Ryuji just...laid there.

"No...." Akira whispered, his heart slowing, vision narrowing to focus on the crumpled boy.

_Ryuji. Ryuji, get up._

He just laid there

_No. NO._

_Is he...? He can't be--!_

Akira tried to reach a hand out toward his fallen friend, but his body refused to respond.

 _No no no no **no no no NO**_  
_I can't move, no, this can't be real, it isn't real_

He was paralyzed with horror, and it felt like--it was too much like--!

Akira watched helplessly as Morgana dashed to his fallen teammate's side and shook the limp boy. No response. He held a paw up to Ryuji's nose to check for breath, but Akira couldn't tell, yet, what he'd found.

It was too much.

_I have to move. I have to--_

Ann joined Morgana now, a pot of healing salve in her hand. Akira recognized the label of the smelling-salts-style restorative he'd purchased from Dr. Takemi the previous day.

_Can she? Oh please please_

Movement, from the corner of his eye. Of course their foe wasn't content to wait. To watch this little drama play out. One disgustingly veined arm raised as Kamoshida advanced, prepared to interrupt their attempts to revive their comrade. Akira tried to shout, to warn them, but his throat remained closed.

 _This is a nightmare. It's a nightmare. Why am I so useless?_  
_I never should have been their leader. I'm not what they need. If I can't step up, he's going to die, is he going to die, is he--_

**_"Then step up."_ **

_\--?! That voice--!_

**_"I told you that it was an option, didn't I?"_ **

The voice leaking from his heart like an engine leaking oil, like a body bleeding 'til faintness, it didn't feel right. It didn't feel _safe_.

**_"Safe? So you'll forsake your promise for 'safety'?"_ **

_That's right. "Even into hell.." But is this what that means?_

It didn't feel safe. It felt cloying, deceptive. It felt like death, insisted upon by a coldly iron will.

It felt powerful.

As Akira considered it, his body chilled, and his heart slowed. The nightmare before his eyes progressed in slow motion, every detail sharp and jagged in his vision. Ann's trembling hands on the lid of the medicinal jar. Morgana, paws jostling a leather-clad shoulder. A huge hand, raised in violence. Blood on lips.

_Even....into hell._

At that admission, Akira felt his paralysis release, replaced by a dreadful frigid rage. Ryuji can't be dead. His friends, they can't be permitted to end their journey here. His hands ached with icy cold as they gripped his knife, bracing himself as he called upon Arsene.

As he did so, he felt a strange, sick tug. An unwinding. Again, that sensation of a life's worth of spilt blood leading to an internal coldness and vagueness and wrongness. But as Kamoshida prepared to strike, he forced these feelings aside, forced the wrongness into place like a misplaced puzzle piece that could be forced to fit, though poorly.

_**Arsene. NOW.** _

And his power erupted.

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Bleary eyed, Ryuji took a hand from Ann and stood up. As he rose, his eyes focused on Akira.

_Is he....fighting solo?! How could the others allow that?_

Akira was a black blur, unleashing repeated devastating physical attacks through Arsene's claws and his whiplike iron chains.

 _Physical attacks? That's always been Captain Kidd's schtick._ _I didn't think Akira had the stamina for shit like that._ _That's why he sticks to magic or his knife, right?_

As Ann and Morgana rushed back to the front lines, Ryuji allowed himself one more moment to try to regain his bearings. Medicine or no, his head was still swimming from his brief unconsciousness. He watched Akira's onslaught in an awe that swiftly evolved into uneasiness.

_And...what the hell?! What's wrong with that guy's Persona? Is Arsene...leaking?_

With every slash of his obsidian-tipped claws, the fringes of Arsene's long sleeves seemed to be burning away, leaving behind a trail of filth and ashes. As his chains whipped through the air, they stained Kamoshida's body with rust and blackened iron-colored grime.

Ryuji dashed forward, searching for a way back into the flow of battle.

_Ugh, I can't....get...in close enough! Not without risking hitting Akira. Why won't he back down and take a breath, like usual?!_

Again and again and again, Akira leapt forward for another assault, lashing out with chains that seemed, along with the ashes, to be trailing strangely-behaving smoke. 

_No....._

Ryuji focused.

_Not smoke.  Frost...?_

The chains creaked and groaned from the frigid temperature straining the viciously whipping metal.

Ryuji flinched as the black-haired boy took a back handing to the face, his head snapping back brutally from the impact.

"Joker!!" Ann and Ryuji shouted in unison, rushing in to cover him in a flash of whip and metal.

But....to Ryuji's shock, Akira didn't seem to even feel the blow. He immediately righted himself, seemingly fueled by some deep internal rage.

_What.....what happened to piss him off like this? It couldn't have been me getting knocked out, right?_

_I mean, I'm **fine**! He can **see** I'm fine!_

Kamoshida dove forward to strike Morgana. Fast, but not faster than Akira, who lunged to the side and absorbed the hit himself. "Joker, no!" his teammate cried out. A link from one of Arsene's chains snapped like an overly taut rubber band. The severed links clattered to the ground and shattered, brittle, pieces scattering into dust. His dark costume in shambles, still, the boy dragged himself back to his feet.

_What's gotten into Akira? Like yeah, he always fights like our lives are on the line, but this is something else._

Determined to hold their own, the thieves threw themselves into battle furiously. Ann shouted from Akira's side, "You don't need to take so many hits for us! We can handle ourselves!" But he seemed deaf to her pleas, running forward to unleash another clawed attack without even turning his head in recognition.

Morgana yelled after him, distressed, "Joker, attacking like this--! Your health is dropping!"

Ryuji startled, well aware of the toll that physical attacks would take on the body. "Hey, man! You can let up! If you keep going like this...." He surged forward with his tire iron to parry an attack headed for Akira, who had charged back into battle blindly. Glancing behind himself at the boy he'd protected, he grimaced, and felt a swell of panic in his chest.

_He's bleeding pretty bad. And judging from his costume, who knows how many hits he's taken that I can't even see?!_

_Shit, Akira! If he keeps this up--!_

Akira was panting heavily, bloody from a wound that must have been hidden somewhere in his hair. "You....disgusting creep. I'll.... **destroy you**." By now he'd intercepted at least a dozen blows that had been meant for his teammates, and though he'd shrugged them off in the heat of the moment, the toll was beginning to leak through his frenzy.

_He **can't** keep this up._

Determined, Ryuji ran out in front of his friend, grabbing his wrist.

_Well this is familiar. And not in a good way._

_Why do we gotta keep stopping each other from beating the shit out of Kamoshida?_

Firmly, he insisted, "Joker. Tap out."

"No, no, I--" the black-haired boy lunged forward for another attack, but Ryuji planted his boots firmly to brace himself and held his friend back.

"Mona, Panther....ughh!" He had the wind knocked out of him by the force of Akira's attempt to move through him.

_How does Akira still have this much fight left? Guy looks like he's running on empty!_

"Guys, cover us for a sec!"

"Got it!"

"Of course, we'll watch your back!"

As the other two Thieves dashed further into the fray, Ryuji dragged a struggling Akira to the sidelines. "Skull, no, I've got to get in there! I need to fight, to protect you guys, to end this!" But, breathing raggedly, he was fading in Ryuji's arms.

"Joker, **no.** Listen to me, man." He grabbed the boy by both shoulders and shook him. Akira's battle-glazed eyes blinked back exhaustion, and as they focused on Ryuji, they gained a look of....confusion? "You're gonna end yourself if you keep fighting like that. Those physical attacks...do you even realize how much you're bleeding?"

Akira raised a hand to his forehead, where his hair was pasted to his skin with a combination of his own sweat and blood, made darker and tarry from that strange black dust that had fallen from Arsene throughout the fight.

"What was I.....?" he breathed. He looked wonderingly at the gore staining his red gloves, but then his eyes snapped to the sight of Ann taking a hit from Kamoshida's enormous fork, and, shocking Ryuji, he lunged forward, attempting to jump back into combat.

"Goddamn it Joker, **I said** _ **no!"**_

Ryuji was barely able to grab Akira by the collar to wrench him back. The boy fought him, but more weakly now.

_It's like he's coming down from an adrenaline rush. I'd say good, let him crash, but damn it we **are** in a fight! He needs to do something, but it's gotta be something different or he's gonna....he's gonna kill himself fighting like that._

_Something different....yeah, I've got it._

Ryuji looked Akira in the eye and insisted, "Look man, I'm not gonna let you get back out there. We can handle this part of the fight."

A little wildly, Akira gasped, "Skull, stop, I'm not just gonna aband--"

"I know." He interrupted. "I've got a plan for you."

That seemed to break through.

_He's listening at least._

In the background, a vivid green flash showed that Morgana was still holding Kamoshida's odious shadow at bay as Ryuji continued. "That crown on his head is his treasure, yeah? I bet it's part of his power. And, even if it isn't, snatching it back is bound to fuck with him, right?"

Slowly, "Y....yeah?"

_Good...keep listening, man._

"But it is way up there. You're the best of us at all of that weird acrobatics shit, so you should be the one to knock it off the bastard's head. The rest of us will keep fighting to distract him, and you can..." Ryuji glanced around frantically, and finally settled his gaze on a pillar that might just be close enough to work. "....climb up there, and then jump over to knock it off. Think you can do that?"

Though he still looked dazed, Ryuji felt like Akira seemed to be coming back to himself as he considered his instructions. When he nodded, Ryuji felt a surge of relief.

"Yeah. Got it. I can do that. Just...." Akira's eyes looked clearer, but were full of anxiety. "Just don't die while I'm gone...okay?" A strange sense of misery slipped into his voice at that last insistence, but they simply didn't have time for Ryuji to try to parse out its meaning.

Ryuji clapped him on the back and turned to run back into the fight. "Got it. Now go, man, we're counting on you!"

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

The caped man floundered, backing away from Ann's fury toward an open-air balcony. As he reached the edge, his back nudged the railing and he panicked at the sensation, hands reaching to grip something solid, fingers white from the pressure.

_My hands feel so...so cold._

Akira shuddered.

_What did I do? I thought I was just fighting, but Arsene--but I--I don't feel right, I--_

Something wet trickled down his cheek, but was it was sweat, blood, or tears...? Akira felt too weary, too heavy, to tell.

_How did this....?_

_I accepted something, but what....?_

_....._

_But we won. Nothing else matters._

As the girl advanced upon her tormenter, Akira blearily cheered her on from his position, limply kneeling on the cold tile.

_Do.....it. End this._

_......._

He didn't know when he'd become so bloodthirsty. When he'd become accepting of death, as long as it came home to a monster. Even if that monster is human....

_............_

Ann's lips moved, but he was too burnt out to focus on her words. His own lips were cold as he mouthed silent pleas.

_Be done. Do it. **Do it.**_

She raised a hand, gloves shimmering from air charged with violent heat. The man before her cringed, dropping to his knees. Tears fell to the ground, dissolving into the uncaring stonework of his own castle.

_Do it._

Akira's eyes flickered, his body succumbing to a cold sweat. But they shot open, heart leaping into his throat as fire flew from her hands and he realized in a moment of clarity that

 **_No no no what--who am I--I don't want us to be murderers!_ **  
**_That's not who we--_ **

The ball of flame shot through the air, only to char the railing to the right of Kamoshida's head. The man had been spared after all.

_Thank...goodness......_

_I remembered .....in the end._

Akira felt his consciousness fade into exhaustion. Through heavy eyelashes, he saw lips moving, a man dissolving into light with a resigned smile, a crown clattering to the ground.

_So, we...._

_....._

_......_

As he finally collapsed face first toward the ground, he felt a hand grasp his collar to tug him upright. Panicked voices floated airily to him through the ringing in his ears. The cracking of stone, the clanging and tremors of fallen chandeliers, the shattering of glass. The scent of leather and the tacky sensation of sweat-slicked vinyl as arms hoisted him up, and then--

Darkness.


	15. Means & Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter, and then we'll meet Yusuke!
> 
> This one is mostly processing what happened last chapter, and preparing to segue into the Madarame arc. Sorry if this one is a little fragmented! The next one should be more cohesive.

_[[ A sweet and frightful voice howled her eternal aria as Akira awoke briefly in the Velvet Room. Twin pairs of golden eyes stared down at him through thick iron bars, one set hard and disappointed, the other concerned._

_As he lay sprawled upon the prison cot, all energy spent, he prodded the edges of his own mind, though he feared what he'd find there._

_He felt....whole, but raw, and somehow off-center. And still, so, so cold._

_((Arsene....did I.....hurt him? Did I hurt **myself**?))_

_((Just what did I do?...))_

_He could still sense the comforting presence of the being that had been born in his own mind, but it felt wary and frayed._

_((I'm sorry. I'm sorry.))_

_((...though I can't say I'd take it back. What I did....I'm horrified at how it felt, but it was necessary. Wasn't it?))_

_He felt his other self shrink within him, but there was no arguement. Can you, really, argue with yourself, after all?_

_((But was I....was I really willing to **kill?** Back then?))_

_((I changed my mind in the end, but that doesn't erase the fact that I'd had the impulse.))_

_((That I'd....even for a moment....welcomed it. ))_

_Akira shivered, distressed at what he'd discovered about himself this day. If...if what that was.... **had** been himself. Had it? If not...._

_His thoughts trailed off, halted by uncertainty._

_"Prisoner. You tread a dangerous path." spoke the deep, commanding voice of the room's master from within the gloom beyond his cell. "Still, you may choose your own fate."_

_Igor was cold, but sure. Somehow, the creature's acceptance of his actions unsettled Akira even further. His stomach churned as fear settled into his heart. He hadn't made the wrong choice. He couldn't have. Damn it, what else had he been meant to do?!_

_"It'll be an interesting game to see just where these choices lead you, Trickster....."_

_Igor's ominous laughter echoed in Akira's ears as he drifted away, falling deep, deep into the blue...... ]]_

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
The thieves sprawled on the concrete, Akira's head supported by Ann's lap. Anxiously waiting for him to awaken, they whispered to each other.

_"Just what **was** that power? Was it an effect of the Wild Card?"_

_"Is he going to be alright? Akira really took a beating in that battle."_

_"Guys, what happened when I was knocked out? Did he--"_

A tattered cough, and eyes flickered awake. A hiss and a wince, and a hand flew to support a pained ribcage.

"H--hey man. Akira, you okay?!" Ryuji's hand pressed into his shoulder heavily as the boy gazed down at him, alarmed.

_What.....happened?...._

"Yeah....I think so. We're....out?" Akira's head swam as his eyes took in their return to the dingy alley they'd begun their adventure in.

Ann nodded. "Yeah. After Kamoshida's shadow returned to his real self, the palace collapsed. It doesn't even show up on the Nav now. We had to carry you out."

Akira cringed, chagrined. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to do that."

_What kind of leader am I, to make my team cart me around like a damsel in distress?_

She shook her head. "It's okay. You took care of us. It's only fair that we return the favor. But, can I ask?...." She paused, blue eyes brimming with concern. "What happened to you in there? It was like you found the will to keep fighting, but it didn't seem...." she struggled to find the right word, and finally settled on "....healthy."

Akira raised his arm, covering his eyes with the back of his hand. His lips pressed together into a thin line, as he considered what to say. Just how much to tell them. Even he wasn't sure just what--

_......._

  
_I wish I knew, myself._

Slowly, he murmured, "I...don't know. I..." He shook his head. "I just needed more power, and I dug it out of myself somehow. It doesn't matter now. It's over."

"I guess..." Ryuji looked unconvinced.

"It **is** over, right?" Akira pulled himself out of Ann's lap and into a seated position, gravel crunching beneath his legs. He tried not to wince as his torso twisted, agitating what must at least be a killer bruise.

Now upright, he spied Morgana lingering behind Ryuji, guarding something shiny beneath his paws. "What's that, Morgana?"

The not-cat nosed the object closer to him, uncharacteristically quiet. "Kamoshida's treasure. This is how it manifested in reality." Ribbon stained by the dirt of the alleyway, a gleaming gold medal lay on the ground between them.

"So, this is what started it all." he said pensively.

Ann spat, disgusted, "His **pride**. All of this, out of pride. It makes me sick." She kicked the medal away angrily, where it flew to hit Ryuji's sneaker.

The boy leaned over to pick it up.

"Huh. What do we even do with something like this?" He turned it over in his hands thoughtfully. "Think it's worth anything?"

Akira fought with his pocket for a moment, and finally won the struggle to remove his phone. A quick internet search confirmed what he'd thought. "Well, it is worth _something_. 30-40,000¥? Maybe that guy at Untouchables will buy it. He took some of the other weird shit we dragged out of the palace."

"We should sell it then," Ann agreed. "I know I don't want to look at it any longer than I have to. Do you mind doing it, Akira?"

He nodded, pocketing it. "Yeah, I can."

With the reminder of their battle out of sight, Ann brightened. "We should use the money to celebrate! You know, once Kamoshida changes. I've got a great idea for that, by the way!"

Akira would have agreed to anything at that point. He was just relieved to be done discussing what had happened during the fight. He didn't want to talk about it.

Internally, his mind still felt....raw, and terrible. Trying to consider what he'd done, the state he'd been in....it felt like digging filthy fingers into an open wound, or like clenching ice until it began to damage flesh.

He tried to pull himself up to a standing position, but floundered, off-balance. "Whoa, man, wait, I'll help you up!" Ryuji insisted, rising himself and taking his arm.

Akira tried to resist him at first. "But you're hurt too, Ryuji, I--"

"Nah," his friend interrupted, tugging his arm up despite his protests, feet braced carefully to bear his weight. "Ann and Morgana doctored me up pretty well in there, while you were fightin'. I mean, I obviously don't feel **great** , but you look way worse."

"If....if you say so." Relenting, he allowed himself to be dragged to his feet. As he did so, Akira finally realized just how exhausted he still felt. Not as bad as it had been in the palace. At the end. But....

His knees creaked, his ribs ached. He felt bruised, trodden on. Even the roots of his hair hurt. He felt slow, like a creature struggling to return from a deep winter hibernation. It was, frankly, awful, and as embarrassed as he was to need it, he was grateful for Ryuji's supportive arm.

"Man, you look beat. Not that I'm surprised. I was..." Akira felt Ryuji's arm tighten around him. "I was worried about you. I'm glad you're okay."

He flushed, and tried to brush off how that felt to hear. "Yeah, I'll be fine, I'm sure."

_But will I? Everything....still....I don't feel **right**._

Morgana padded his way before him, and stared into his eyes. The directness was unnerving, and Akira couldn't help but wonder if he saw right through him. But, if he did, the not-cat seemed content to address it later. Or, hopefully, ignore it.

_Like I'd ever be **that** lucky._

Quietly, Morgana said, "We should get him home, guys. Don't worry, I promise I'll look after him."

_Of course I'm not getting off that easily._

.....

The others nodded, and supported Akira to the train station. All were solemn, taciturn. But what more was to be said? They'd done what they needed to.

_And that's what is important right now._

_The means, justified by the result....what does it matter either way, when it's done with?_

_I'm fine. I'll be fine._

_......................_

_I'll be fine._

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Two weeks had passed without information or resolution. Kamoshida's absence had been felt at Shujin in the interim, but there were no revelations to rock the faculty, no moments of closure. Not yet, anyway.

Akira had passed the time well enough.

First, with Morgana's insistence, he spent more days than he wanted to recovering from his post-battle exhaustion. Strangely, it took longer than he'd expected, and even after a period of convalescence some strange symptoms lingered. His body still felt sluggish. Oddly, he'd noticed, unless he was soaking in the public bath down the street from LeBlanc, he now found it nearly impossible to warm up. But that was a small thing, and easily shrugged off.

Once he felt he was, at least, "good enough," he'd gone back to helping Sakura-san at the cafe, and then, surprisingly, running odd jobs for Iwai, the proprietor of the grimy Shibuya airsoft shop.

He'd agreed to purchase the gold medal without much fanfare, despite obvious suspicion over where Akira had acquired it. (30,000¥. Well, at least it would be enough to pay for the elaborate hotel buffet Ann had her sights on.) He was pretty sure at this point that the man was Yakuza, or at least _former_ Yakuza. But as their best (well, only) weapons supplier, Akira felt obligated to keep the connection open. At least until they knew for certain that this was over.

_Over...well, one way or another, we'll know after today._

He swayed a little from lingering exhaustion as he awaited the train that would take him to Shujin Academy. To discover his fate.

_Today I find out if Kamoshida still had the presence of mind to call for my expulsion before the school board. And Ryuji. Even that Mishima guy. If he did...if all we risked was for nothing..._

Akira gazed ahead, his face pensive and drawn, his hand clenching the strap of his bookbag.

_It has to have worked. It **has** to._

_Because if it didn't......I won't...._

_......._

_I refuse to go home._

In the distance, the train for Aoyama-Itchome approached. He felt its low rumble beneath his feet through the grimy station floor.

**_Jump._ **

_.....What?!?_

Akira was startled by the impulse that shot through his mind. It had been a while.

_......No thanks, brain. I've got shit to do today._

But the unnerving intrusive desire persisted, despite his attempts to brush it away as he always had, easily enough, in the past. Its owner oblivious, a toe toyed idly with a painted yellow line.

**_Jump!_**

The voice in his head was merry, manic, like a child cheering for candy.  It had always been harder to push away when he was tired, but this--

_Stop it. **STOP it!**_

**_Jump!_ **

Like a teammate urging a friend forward one more round, almost there, you can nearly taste victory, you can--!

**_Fucking STO--aaaaaghhh!!_ **

A hand clapped his shoulder, startling away his bizarre and unwanted thoughts just as the train screeched to a halt.

"Hey man," Ryuji's familiar, warm voice muttered in his ear. "Today's the day, huh?"

Akira started breathing again.

_When had I **stopped** breathing?_

"Y....yeah."

"You nervous?" his friend inquired as they climbed aboard the train together.

_..........._

Akira nodded.

"Yeah, me too man. But all we can do is wait and see, right?" Ryuji seemed to need reassurance himself, and Akira forced himself to smile.

"I'm sure it'll work. It has to." he replied, with a confidence he did not, truly, feel.

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

_[[ In a crowded auditorium, students listened in awe as a man grovelled on stage, tearless, but horrified. Maybe he felt as though he didn't have the right to tears, even as he confessed to his every sin against the student body before him._

_"....and I.....I am the reason why Shiho Suzui tried to commit suicide." Gasps echoed through the crowded room, as their principal attempted to drag the shaggy-haired, unshaven man offstage._

_"I have no way to repent. I'm undeserving of forgiveness, or redemption. There is only way that I can think to atone...to take responsibility for the sickening and shameful person I've been....and, so, I've decided to kill myself" It didn't seem like a cry for help, or attention. His face spoke his resolve for him. He meant it._

_From the crowd, a girl's furious voice rang out, "No! No, you bastard. You don't get to do that."_

_Ann Takamaki strode toward the stage, a force of nature. Seeing the look of bitter rage fixed on her face, the sure, hard line of her mouth, none dared to interfere._

_She stood before him and declared, "You don't get to run away from what you've done. There's no escaping it for Shiho. She's still alive, even after all you've done to her. After everything you put her through....why would you deserve to end this with peace?"_

_Her fists clenched at her side, she turned away, but shot him one more glance as she spat out, "So live with it. Live with what you did. Forever."_

_The man fell to his knees, just as tears finally fell from his face. "I......" He shook with passion. "Yes. Okay. I....I should repent for what I did to Takamaki as well. The rumors I spread, to try to....to force myself upon her....I....I....someone call the police! I'll turn myself in, and be punished! I'll be punished under the law, as I should be!" He dissolved into pitiful sobs, finally allowing himself to be lead off-stage by a pair of male teachers._

_In the ensuing chaos, full of muttered speculation about the calling cards that had predicted this very event, barely anyone noticed three students threading their way through the crowd to escape the school, their duty done. Trembling, all of them. But satisfied. ]]_

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

At a hotel buffet, Akira fell back into his seat, still trembling from a minor confrontation over space in an elevator. Why had it left him so unsettled? He was frustrated and embarrassed over the, to his eyes, disproportionate physiological reaction.

Maybe it was the man's voice. It was familiar, in a cruel and uncaring way, like secondhand pain. He did his best to push it out of his mind as he listened to the conversation between his friends evolve. Ryuji had been affected by the confrontation as well, and in their absence Ann had run into her own troubles.

_Why....why are the adults we encounter so selfish?_

_We fight, risking everything, to end one, only to find more in the same breath.  Why?!_

_Are they all that way? Is that what we're doomed to become as well? Assuming we make it that far...._

_No. I can't accept that._

Beneath the table, he gripped his seat tightly.

_I don't think that's a thing **any** of us can accept._

Together, the four Thieves came to a resolution. They would continue fighting, as long as there were shitty adults in the world who were intent on imposing their distorted wills on those around them. They'd help Morgana regain his memories. They'd fight.

And Akira would continue to lead them.

_..........._

_I'm afraid. Afraid of what continuing to fight will force me to confront. Afraid to dig deeper into what I awoke in myself._

_But I'm more frightened of what will become of them if I'm not here. And, selfishly, of the void that may appear within me again, in the absence of a Persona, and a purpose._

_So I'll.....I'll continue to be who and what they need._

_I've made that promise. Regardless of where it leads._

Hands clasped his own and raised them high as his companions cheered his inauguration as the leader of the Phantom Thieves, heedless of the stares of the haughty restaurant patrons around them.

Their celebration had ceased to be about an ending. Rather, it seemed, with Kamoshida's confession their fight had just begun.

Spurred by their success, and (judging from the "Phansite" of unknown origin that had popped up in the wake of Kamoshida's confession, their newfound fame) the Thieves were in giddily high spirits.

How could they not be?  Their plan had worked! 

They'd changed the heart of an odious man, and forced an apology from the adult who'd persecuted him.  Not only that, they'd forced him to  _mean_ it. 

Why wouldn't they continue?  With results like that....they could make the entire world repent if they desired it.  

Together, Ann and Ryuji flicked through the Phansite on their phones, awed by the forum posts that had already appeared to request aid from the mysterious Thieves of Hearts.  

Privately, picking idly at his food, Akira arrived at his own grim resolve.

_There's no stopping those three. And I can't say that I would be willing to step aside either. Not when there are already more voices calling out for help._

_Well, then._

_I'll stride into an abyss, if only to bar them from that same path._

_That's what I can do._


	16. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A loooot smashed into this one. Starts off with some rough Akira backstory, and ends with a little (mild) Thieves drama. Yusuke appears in the middle!

_[[ A boy trembled, face grey from both exhaustion and day-old soot. He crouched in the slick plastic hospital chair in an attempt to make himself as small as possible as voices encircled him, uncaring of the traumatized ears they reached._

_"...........ill need skin grafts, and ................................. walk will be possible, but ................................. optimistic, I can't ............... Kurusu fire, I heard that .....................transfer to a more specialized ............................ breadwinner, correct? Now ................................................. burn unit, but the fees...........they're saying the fire originated in the bedroom of his 14 year old son, and .................... child ..................... selfishness, what kind of ................................... "_

_((My fault. My fault. My fault.))_

_Without comfort, a guilty child hugged his own knees to his chest, rocking in place. Tears mingled with ashes to wind black trails down his cheeks._

_A body settled in heavily in the seat next to him. It smelled like fire, and something unwashed and sweet and rotten._

_((Mom.....mama, I-- **help--I--please-** -))_

_A tight voice carefully restrained fury in the full, very public hallway. "You did this, you know."_

_Heart beating beating beatingbeating **beating**_

_((Mom, mom, no, I please still love me, I--))_

_"He's going to need care for months. And then there are the specialized therapies....not to mention the risks of graft rejection. We need more money than we have. And you....you're going to have to help with that. This is your responsibility."_

_A hand settled on the boys leg. He leaned into it for comfort, only to be met with startling pain as clawed fingers dug into his exhausted flesh. His heart beat wildly, his mind dazed from a sleepless 24 hours and the lingering effects of smoke inhalation. Through the fear, through ringing ears, he struggled to focus on her words, spoken through gritted teeth._

_"................. have................... friends with connec .................... part time job of sorts ......................................I've wor........................... the past .............................. tty well known in their field. ...................had their eyes on you for a while now, but silly me, I wanted to keep you safe at home._

_"...................your responsibility, and I don't want to hear...................................... Not now. Not ever. Do you understand?"_

_A pause. The boy's head swam, overwhelmed. Too long of a pause. Fingernails dug deeper into his leg, shocking him into focus._

_"I **said, do you understand**?"_

_He nodded numbly._

_"Whatever you have to do to make this right, that's what you're going to do. You've always been a useless child, but that isn't an option open to you anymore. Not after this."_

_Cracked lips parted to whisper, croakily, "I understand. I'm so sorr--aaaaahhhhhh" An apology turned into a sob at another twist of his leg._

_A passing nurse looked down at the boy, concerned, and the woman to his side slid a look of sympathetic exhaustion onto her face, subtly releasing claws to rub comforting circles over her child's knee. "He's so tired." She shrugged, as if to say, 'You know how it is.'_

_"We'll head home soon, but promise you'll call me with any updates?"_

_A look of empathy and understanding, "Of course, Mrs. Kurusu. You'll be the first to know, every step of the way. Get whatever rest you can. This must be terrible for the both of you."_

_"Yes. It is." ]]_

  
Akira awoke feeling so exhausted that he might as well have avoided sleep altogether. His body ached from an entirely unrestorative night.

_Why **that** dream?_

He ground a knuckle into his eyelids, trying to brush away the residue of sleep and fatigue. He only really succeeded in realizing how bruised and sunken his face felt.

_I....I'm doing good things now. Don't I deserve some rest?_

In his memories, the smell of the charred remnants of his childhood bedroom and the rancid fiery trashcan of weeks prior mingled together in a guilty soup.

_Maybe it was a mistake to handle it that way. I didn't think...it had been so long. But I liked it too much.  The fire...._

He cringed into his pillowcase.

_But it's done now. I can't take it back. And I......I don't want to. I don't want to take it back._

Akira rolled out of bed, narrowly avoiding flinging a still-sleeping Morgana to the floor. The not-cat was tangled in messy, knotted sheets that Akira must have kicked to the foot of the bed while dreaming.

_I'm moving forward now. I'm fighting. And I can figure out a way to do that without giving in to the parts of myself that I hate. I know I can._

_So if my brain could just shut the hell up with these guilt-trip nightmares, that would be fantastic._

Akira tugged a white turtleneck over his narrow frame, wincing as he twisted. Most of his wounds had healed by now, but one stubborn bruise deep in his ribs lingered. He prodded it with two fingers, ostensibly to check to see how deep it still ran. In reality, he'd always found poking bruises to be strangely satisfying.

Purposefully nonchalantly, like he couldn't really let himself feel that it mattered, he tapped his phone and opened the Metanav to agitate a different type of bruise.

.......

"Ri........ho.......Ku.......ru........su........."

_$'*¿no-.hits='٪found)!in'/target]@area:×: <_

_Of course. I mean, if a desire isn't **distorted**.....what would I expect?_

Akira thrust the phone back into his pocket, suddenly unwilling to look at it. Instead he sighed, halfheartedly combing his fingers through wild black hair in an attempt to tame it. It did nothing, really, but at least he could say he'd tried. He slung his bookbag over one shoulder and returned to his bedside to nudge Morgana.

The not-cat yawned, showing a mouthful of sharp, tiny teeth.

"Hey sleepyhead. I'm taking off. Now's your chance, if you want to hitch a ride to Shujin. We're all meeting on the rooftop after school."

Bright blue eyes blinked sleepily, and a nose nuzzled its way further into the pile of wrinkled sheets. "Five..... more..... minutes........"

Akira scoffed, "Have it your way, but I'm leaving. You'll have to walk yourself, then. I'll leave the window open for you." He reached over to unlatch it.

"Mmmmhmmmmm.......okay.............." Paws stretched out, extending claws, then relaxed back into the mattress.

Akira wasn't convinced that Morgana was actually listening to a thing he said, but whatever. He smiled fondly at the pile of fur nested at the foot of his bed, and tugged a blanket more snugly around a soft black shoulder.

"Well, at least **one** of us can sleep, hah. See ya."

He turned for the stairwell, mind beginning to spin with wonders over just what the Thieves would discuss today.

_Moving forward....._

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
The thieves were tense as they stomped down the stairwell of Shujin Academy after having been chased from their rooftop meeting place by the school's unsettlingly perceptive student council president.

"Ugh, she's such a dick." Ryuji muttered.

Ann sighed. "I guess it isn't safe to meet **there** anymore. What a pain...."

"Damn it, how is it fair to be kicked out of our own hideout? We're the good guys!"

Akira didn't disagree, but..... "Do you really think that's how it'll look to society at large?"

He raised his phone to flash the current poll running on the Phansite. It read:

_"Do you believe in the Phantom Thieves?"_

And despite the pile of forum requests, the results had settled at a not-at-all-reassuring 8% "yes."

_Ugh. This website is a whole thing in and of itself..._

Akira still felt uncomfortable knowing that Mishima was the founder of the Phansite. After he'd leaked his criminal record, Akira was loathe to trust the boy anywhere near something that involved both the internet **and** his private life, but now felt trapped, and wary of making the boy his enemy.

The last thing he'd anticipated was having an awkward fanboy. And, on top of that, one who clearly felt he knew the identities of the Thieves.

When he considered that at least two well-connected students now seemed to suspect their activities...well, maybe it was for the best that they were required to take their meetings off-campus.

"Yeah.....I guess you're right. It still sucks ass, though," Ryuji reluctantly agreed.

"I know. But it'll be okay. We'll find a place where no one will bother us. But first, Morgana, what was it you wanted to show us?"

Blue eyes flashed through the open zipper of his bookbag, and a tiny voice replied, "Heh, you'll just have to see when we get there!"

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
Strange motes of red floated in the dusky light of "Mementos." To Akira, the place reminded him of the photograph he'd once seen of a diseased heart. Of clogged, filthy veins carrying rot to the core of a being. As the "Palace of Humanity," maybe it was an apt metaphor.

He piloted the living curiosity that was their cat-bus, avoiding shadows, and trying not to allow the oppressive atmosphere to sink into him.

_Focus on the mission. We have a stalker to find._

He turned a corner, and was confronted by a swirling mass of dark energy, twisting the fabric of Mementos to form a barrier of sorts.

He cringed when Morgana confirmed his suspicions. "Nakanohara is just ahead! Are you ready to go in?"

_Go in **there?**_

Considering walking through that writhing mass of darkness and twisted iron train tracks felt like having to talk yourself into sticking your arm down a functional garbage disposal drain. Even if it wasn't on, there was that instinctive fear of being torn apart for trying to pass through....

_But if that's the only way...?_

He nodded, trying to appear the confident leader they required him to be. "Let's go, then."

He braced himself and floored the gas, squeezing his eyes closed reflexively as they hit the wall of energy and passed through. A wave of sickness roiled in his gut, a momentary displacement, and then--

"There he is!" Ann cried out.

_Well, that wasn't.... **so** bad, I guess._

Before them, peering out from a dark, dank corner, was an unassuming looking young man. If it wasn't for his unnaturally golden eyes, he'd have looked like any person they might have passed on the street. He glared as the thieves piled out of the Morgana-bus, and continued to stare, unblinking, even as Morgana regained his usual form.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Nakanohara sneered as they approached.

Ryuji stepped up, posturing imposingly. "We're here to change your shitty heart. You've been stalking your ex, haven't ya? Man, you've gotta know that isn't cool."

Nakanohara's eyes narrowed as he spat, "And why shouldn't I treat her that way?! Huh?! She's **mine**! I own her! I have that right."

"That ' _right_ '?! You're disgusting! No one has 'rights' over another person! Especially not one who wants nothing to do with them." Ann's lip curled in distaste as she readied her whip.

"You seriously judge me?! People do it all the time--just as I was owned by Madarame! If you're going to go after someone, calling something like this a crime, how **dare** you target me, when there is someone like that out there. I might steal her time, but **he's** stolen entire futures. And lives. Tch."

As the man became more agitated, the air around him shimmered and flexed, warping his shape.

"Madarame, huh? I feel like I've heard that name, but I'm not sure where," Ann muttered quietly to her companions.

Ryuji shook his head, advancing. "Aw, c'mon. The creep was just trying to deflect the heat from himself. There's nothing else to it."

"Yeah, I guess...." Her mouth twisted, uncertain. "But, still." Ann fixed her eyes on Nakanohara angrily. "Whatever he means, it doesn't change what he's doing. He has to be stopped."

The young man's shoulders heaved as his eyes darted from thief to thief like a cornered animal. "So--so it's going to be that way, is it?! Fine, then! See if you can!"

The shimmering air around him contracted violently, then split, as he morphed into his own impish shadow.

_Time to fight, then._

Akira nodded at his teammates. "Let's do this."

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

On their way out of the subway, Akira felt eyes on himself. On edge, his own eyes darted around the bustling building, but he was unable to spot where the feeling was coming from. Still, he couldn't shake it.

_Were we spotted exiting Mementos?! Crap. We never should have done this during peak hours._

He found himself walking more and more briskly, the other Thieves struggling to match his pace.

"Dude, Akira, what's up? You in a hurry or something?"

_Ahh!--there!!_

Across the room, a young man was striding toward them hurriedly, an intent look on his face. From this distance, he couldn't make out much else, other than the fact that he was definitely a stranger.

 _Shit_.

Out of the corner of his mouth he muttered, "Don't look at him, but I think that guy is following us."

Ryuji looked.

"Huh? Which guy? That one?" He pointed directly at him.

"You idiot!" Ann exclaimed. "What part of 'don't look at him' don't you--uh whoa, though, he really is heading right for us!"

Akira increased his pace further. At this point, it was more of a half-jog than a walk, with the hope that they'd be able to lose the stranger in the even-more crowded streets of Shibuya. But as they emerged into the grey late afternoon--

"You! Wait, please wait!"

They'd been caught.

Resigned, Akira spun on his heel to face their pursuer. He was.....

_Huh._

Not what he'd expected.

Too thin for his tall frame, a pale teenager wheezed from the exertion of chasing them.

Upon catching his breath, he straightened to his full, imposing height, brushing sleek blue hair from his eyes with a swipe from spindly, paint-stained fingers. The blue tint combined with a nearly anemic complexion to make him appear....practically hypothermic.

The young man reached out to them, beckoning. His eyes, fixed on the trio, were unnervingly piercing and direct.

Insistently, he called out, "Please, please wait! I must speak with you. You--!" He lashed one arm out wildly in a show of passion. "You're the one I've been looking for! The one I desperately need!"

Taken aback, face red with embarrassment, Ann floundered. "No, no, this is way too sudden! I don't even know you!"

Dark eyes blinked at her owlishly as his impassioned demeanor receded in an instant. Thin eyebrows arched in a look of lukewarm interest.

"What? Yes, that's correct." The boy appeared genuinely confused, as if he had only just noticed her presence. Bluntly, he continued, "But that's irrelevant, as I was not speaking to you."

Ann's mouth fell open in astonishment at his rudeness. "I, uh, I assumed.....well this is awkward." She cringed, but without an audience, as the strange boy had already turned away from her to focus on the true object of his pursuit--Akira.

_.......wait, what?!? Uhhhh....._

He reddened, astonished.

The wan boy reached out to Akira, taking a single step forward as he insisted earnestly, "You're the one that I need! I saw you from across the station, and knew in an instant that you were the only one who'd satisfy me."

"S....satisfy you? What do you....?" Akira wrung his hands, entirely at a loss at how to respond to such a sudden confession.

Ryuji stepped into the space between them, hands raised defensively. "Whoa, man, you can't--you don't just say shit like that out of the blue!" It was useless, however, as the odd boy simply sidestepped him to close in on Akira further.

Only a foot away from his face, Akira could nearly see himself reflected in the boy's dark eyes.

_Wow, he has.....really long eyelashes._

_Um._

_Unimportant at this moment, Akira._

He gulped, completely bewildered, his face burning.

_This is.....this is......this is not what I thought was going to happen! Is he....do I have a stalker? A handsome, rude stalker?_

_.....handsome?_

_Oh no, brain, don't go there. Uh uh._

"I--I um, I'm sorry, I--"

"Please be the model in my next art piece!" the boy exclaimed before Akira could finish his stuttering.

_?????_

_That is **also** not what I.....?!_  
_What even is my life?_

"E....excuse me?" Akira floundered as his friends blurted out an assortment of astonished exclamations.

Finally, the blue-haired boy introduced himself. "My name is Yusuke Kitagawa! I am a second year in the fine arts division at Kosei High. Please, I must have you as my model. The passion I feel, upon gazing at your unique beauty--"

_My **what**?? Me??_

Akira's blush deepened further, to the point it was nearly painful. He stared at his feet intently, suddenly finding the texture of Shibyua pavement incredibly diverting. At least, until--

"Heh heh heh haaaa!" Ryuji, apparently unable to restrain himself any further, had burst out into shocked laughter at his friend's predicament.

_Huh??_

Yusuke turned to Ryuji sternly, looking down his nose at the other boy with an expression of grave offense. "I'm sorry, was there some unintended humor in my request?"

The blonde wiped his eyes mirthfully, then, still chuckling, replied, "I--I mean, honestly yeah?! That was really bizarre dude. And to call _this guy_ a 'unique beauty?' I mean he's just a normal, average guy!"

Akira frowned, a little hurt despite himself.

_Well that stung. Thanks a lot, Ryuji?_

"Your opinion is noted, and discarded."

"Wha--whaaaaaaat?"

 _Pfffffft_.

Akira had to stop himself from laughing aloud at the blunt rejoinder. Not that he liked seeing his friend knocked down a peg, but.....well, maybe he did, slightly, after being called _average_.

To Ann, Ryuji muttered, " _Man_ this guy is intense."

Once more, Yusuke turned to implore Akira. This time, he found himself listening with unexpectedly greater interest. "Please! If I miss this opportunity, I feel I will rue it to my dying day! You--you don't have to decide now. Here--" He dug in his pocket, jingling a huge silver keyring that dangled from his belt loop, and withdrew a handful of paper sheets.

"My teacher and mentor, the great Madarame, has an art exhibition opening here in Shibuya this Saturday. Please, accept these tickets. Here's one for you, and another two for...." He glanced drolly at Ryuji. "...for your friends. Perhaps his works will inspire you as you have inspired me, and you'll see fit to--"

**"Yusuke! There you are! So, is this where your passion lead?"**

A kindly gentleman peered from the rear window of a simple sedan, smiling at the clustered teenagers. Yusuke's eyes widened at the sight, and a look of regret flashed across his face. "Madarame sensei! I'm so sorry to have bolted away as suddenly as I did, I simply needed--"

"No, no, Yusuke, don't fret. All is forgiven, as I believe I understand what is happening here." He leveled a knowing but good-natured glance at Akira's still-astonished face, and at the exhibition tickets clutched in the boy's hand. "But, I'm afraid that passion or no, we really must be going. Come along now."

"Yes, of course, sensei. But, you--" Walking backwards to the sedan, the art student inquired once more, "Will you please consider my request, and meet with me this Saturday to discuss it?"

Dumbfounded, all Akira had the presence of mind to do was nod in response. "Y--yeah, okay."

(( "What?! Really?!" Ann exclaimed in the background, astonished that he had actually agreed.))

The other boy's face brightened in an unexpectedly lovely way as he climbed into the vehicle. "Wonderful! Until Saturday, then, goodbye!"

Tickets crushed in his fist, face red from embarrassment at being put on the spot in such a forward and bizarre way, Akira watched the car pull away. "Good.....bye?"

"Dude, that was so suspicious." Ryuji waved a hand to get his attention, and continued. "You aren't really going to model for that strange guy, are you?"

Beside him, Ann laughed loudly. "Like, there's no way, right? Akira doesn't even like having his picture taken!'

_That's....true, but, not the same?_

Their insistence that he couldn't and wouldn't model for Kitagawa's painting upset Akira, in a way he couldn't manage to define. His lips pressed together in a hard line, he fumed silently.

_Why are they acting like it's impossible that someone could actually want something like this from me? I....I mean I don't particularly **want** to, but it's not like I can't! I'm not incapable!_

_And, it's art! It's not like it's....it's not....it's different, isn't it?_

He opened his mouth to speak up, but silenced himself as Ann exclaimed, "Wait! Let me see those tickets!"

_........_

Irritated, he complied. She uncrumpled one and stared at it, something clearly dawning on her. "Aha! Now I know where I'd heard the name 'Madarame' before! Posters advertising this exhibit have been plastered around Shibuya for weeks!"

She pocketed one ticket, then handed one each to Ryuji and Akira. "I think I've even seen him on Good Morning Japan! I don't know much about art, but isn't he a huge name in the art world?!"

_Is he....?_

Akira shrugged, and replied crossly, "I really don't know."

His friend peered at him, confused at his curt tone of voice. "What's wrong with _you?_ " Ann twirled her hair for a moment, thinking. "Oh, I get it, that whole thing was pretty weird, right?"

She smiled, sure that she'd figured it out. "Well, sorry Akira, but if this is **that** Madarame....the one Nakanohara was talking about.....we really should check it out, right?"

Ryuji chimed in. "You really think a guy like that could be a target? I dunno, Ann, he seemed pretty nice...."

Akira took a breath, biting back his aggravation. She could be right, after all, and Phantom Thieves business needed to come before his own puny ego. "It's a possibility," he admitted. "It couldn't hurt to go, anyway."

_Then we'll have to interview Kitagawa, right? I...I could do that. He wants to talk to me, after all._

"Yeah! Anyway, there's something about being able to say 'I'm going to the opening of an art exhibit's that sounds so cool and adult, right? It could be fun!"

Ryuji scratched the back of his head. "Uhh if you say so. But won't we run into that weird Yusuke kid there?"

Akira bristled, feeling strangely defensive of the practical-stranger. "Hey, he wasn't _that_ weird."

Ryuji laughed outright, scoffing, "You're just sayin' that because he called you a 'unique beauty.'" He framed his face with his hands dramatically, implying vainness.

"Wha--what, **no** , that's not--!" Akira tensed, not liking the way this conversation was turning.

_What did **I** do to deserve getting picked on here?! What is this, 'shit on Akira day'?_

His friend smirked, teasing, "Ohhhhh, is it like _that_? What about you, do you think **he's** a 'unique beauty' too?"

"Huh?!" Ann interjected with interest. "What's that supposed to mean? Why would Akira--"

Akira's face burned with embarrassment, and with anger at the implication hanging out in the open. Tersely, he huffed, "Ryuji, cut it out."

"Aw, man, you know I'm kidding! I just--"

He shook his head, hands clenched. "No, seriously, please cut it out. I'm over this whole conversation, okay?"

"Uhh....okay. Sorry?" His friend had backed away, looking genuinely confused at Akira's sudden decline in mood.

_Completely over this._

_I....I need to get out of here before I turn this into a fight I don't really want to have. I can't even explain why I'm upset._

_This is stupid._

Part of Akira felt guilty for ending the day this way, but his irritation won out. "It's fine. Anyway, I'm ready to head home. I'll see you guys later."

Akira's ears burned as he stalked away from his mystified friends, but he couldn't bring himself to turn back or face them.

_I.....I told Ryuji what I did that day, in the Palace, and **that's** how he treats that information? Like a....like a joke? And, on top of it, both of them are acting like it's completely impossible or hilarious that someone could find me worthy of painting._

Silently seething, he planted himself in a seat on the train home, jaw clenched.

_I didn't ask for any of this, damn it, but.....is that how they see me? How **he** sees me? I mean, I know that--but--_

He buried his face in his hands and took a few breaths, as anger fizzled into shame over how quickly he'd unravelled.

_Am I being too sensitive? It's not like I **want** to model for some stranger._

_And it's not like I told him that my possible gayness or whatever was a secret. I'd trust Ann with that anyway, besides._

It dawned on him, with a new hot wave of shame.

_I just....ugh, this is all because I didn't like Ryuji calling me "average," isn't it?_

_I got pissed and defensive and stormed away over **that**?_

_......._

_Oh, no._

_........._

_Should I apologize? I completely overreacted, didn't I?_

He pulled out his phone, intending to give in to the impulse, but found his thumb lingering unwillingly over the messaging icon. Sighing, he shut down the phone screen and returned it to his pocket.

_That'd only make it worse, right?_

_And I.....I just don't want to._

_Maybe I will later. Right now, I just want to go home._

He stared out of the window miserably, completely unsure of himself. Buildings flew by, along with the time, until he was startled by the buzz of his phone. Warily, he opened up the text message.

      **Ann** : Uhh Akira, did you realize that you left Morgana?

He blanched.

_No, I **didn't**._

_Shit._

      **Akira** : shit. Please tell him I am so sorry. I can turn around and grab him???

A new wave of guilt washed through him. He'd gotten swept up in something so petty, and he'd completely forgotten about a teammate. What kind of leader was he, to be this immature?

He lifted his bookbag, preparing to turn around at the next stop, and in doing so realized regretfully how obviously light it was without Morgana inside.

Another buzz.

      **Ann** : How about I bring him to you? I haven't had a chance to check out that cafe you're staying at anyway, so this is a good excuse!

      **Ann** : **(( ••• ))**

_She wants to come to Le Blanc? I...._

      **Ann** : maybe we can talk about whatever just happened with you and Ryuji? Tbh he's kinda torn up about upsetting you. I mean you don't have to talk, but I'm glad to if you will?

Akira gripped a tuft of hair as he considered. He hadn't been angry at Ann, after all. Maybe she could be a neutral party? And was Ryuji really.....?

      **Akira** : ok, we can do that. See you in a bit then? I'll meet you downstairs.

      **Ann** : kk! Oh Morgana says not to worry about it btw. Honestly I think he's thrilled he got left with me. :p

 _Hah_.

      **Akira** : that sounds about right, lmao

As Akira's train pulled in to the station with a metal shriek, he resigned himself to an evening of discussing things he had absolutely no energy for.

_But.....ugh. Resolving stuff like this....that's being a team too, isn't it?_

 

 


	17. Just Dead and Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Ann time! Kind of a gentle, mushy chapter, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I've always found it interesting how bare the attic is, and that Akira's friends essentially decorate his room *for* him, with all of their clashing and ridiculous gifts.
> 
> C o f f e e d a d

Ann, (with a blissed-out Morgana sleeping in her arms,) milled awkwardly by Le Blanc's door as Sojiro, having taken Akira aside into the rear of the kitchen, continued what had to be at least in the running for the most uncomfortable conversation of the boy's life.

"Oh, I _completely_ understand. I mean, when I was your age, whew..." Sakura let out a low whistle. "But what kind of guardian would I be, if I just let you--"

Akira interrupted, entirely exasperated, "I really, honestly, just want to spend completely normal time with my friend, who happens to be a girl. In my room. She brought me my....cat....and now we are hanging out. That is it."

Sakura kneaded his brow with one soapy hand. "You, uhh......do I need to give you a talk about being safe?"

_Dear lord, no, Sakura-san. Please, no. Absolutely not._

Akira couldn't take it anymore.

_Here goes...._

Inside, his stomach was twisting, but damn it, he just wanted this to end. Time to release his trump card. Entirely deadpan, he groaned, "I am way too gay to have to deal with this."

"You're too _what_?" Sakura nearly dropped the coffee cup he was drying. His eyebrows had raised so high that Akira feared they'd never return to Earth.

"Yes. Can I have my entirely platonic friend in my room now, _please_?"

"Uhhhhh. Hoo boy." Sojiro Sakura's facial expression was preciously poignant as he rambled, "Y--yeeeees, fine, go, kid. Just, uh, keep the door open? Oh that's right, you don't have one. I guess that's fine.....then....yes. Great."

"Thank you."

_And that settles that._

"Ann!" he called out, getting her attention and waving her toward the stairs. She responded with the most awkward, overly-large, cringing grin he'd seen in his life. And a double thumbs up.

_She definitely heard all of that. Faaaaantastic._

Together, the pair trudged upstairs, although not quickly enough to avoid hearing Sakura mutter under his breath, _"I am way too old for this...way too--"_

As they reached the crest of the stairs, Akira turned to take in his friend's expression as her eyes met the dark attic room for the first time. Several conflicting emotions seemed to be playing out over the girl's face as her gaze darted from one murky corner to another, squinting in the low light. She sneezed.

"Ahh, sorry, Ann. There's really no avoiding the dust up here."

She crinkled her nose, trying to stop its itching. "No, it's fine! Unless....uhhh....there isn't, like, asbestos in this building or anything, is there?"

_Is there?? Or is there a restaurant code of some kind against that? I really have no clue._

"That is an excellent question that I do not have an answer to."

Again, that too-wide, slightly horrified smile. "Greeeeeeat. Well, I'll try not to think too hard about that." She strode further into the room, her mind evidently made up to stay despite any potential biohazards.

"So.....we've had a wild day, huh?" Ann leaned over to carefully deposit Morgana in the rumpled sheets at the foot of Akira's bed. The not-cat yawned, nuzzling his way further in. "This guy passed out on the train ride here. He really is like a little kid sometimes. I wonder how old Morgana really is.....?"

"I dunno. I agree, though. Despite everything he knows, Morgana can be strangely innocent. Better not let him hear me say that, though." He chuckled.

Seemingly not content to sit discussing their not-cat-friend, Ann changed the subject abruptly. "So, that whole thing with Kitagawa-kun. Are you really going to model for him?"

Akira shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. Maybe, though. I mean, why not?"

Ann looked slightly flummoxed. "How is it that you're okay with **this,** considering that the art may end up on display for the world to see, but not with having your picture taken and posted online??"

Lowering himself into the attic's ancient couch, inciting a chorus of creaking springs, Akira thought for a moment. He'd had time to sort through his feelings on the matter, but how to best put it into words...?

"In this sort of modeling.....whatever ends up on the paper, it isn't really **me**. It's....I'm being used as a translation medium, to help bring something he's already dreamt up into being. The fact that it might take a form that is nearly identical to my own is irrelevant. It's different than a photograph."

_Or at least, I feel like I need to see for myself if it is different...._

Ann chewed her lip, a little stunned. "Wow. You've put way more thought into this than I expected."

Staring at his hands, half-lost in thought, Akira continued to muse. "Photographs capture a soul. A painting creates an entirely new one. After a lot of thought, that's the understanding I came to."

Akira blinked, catching himself. He laughed awkwardly, realizing he was being more intense than he'd intended, then scratched the back of his neck, backpedaling a little. "Aaah, I guess that's all just a convoluted way of saying that I don't think I'll mind, since whatever the finished product turns out to be won't actually be _me._  It's not like it'll be so hyper realistic that I'll be recognized from it.  Uh.  Hopefully."

Now that he thought of it, Akira had no idea just what sort of artist Kitagawa even  _was._

"Anyway....Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, actually, it makes total sense to me," Ann murmured as she joined him on the sofa. It groaned and buckled under their combined weight. "So, to have put this much thought into it.....Akira, have you modeled before?"

_**[[ ...........  ]]** _

Akira started.

_Lie._

_Sometimes a lie is simpler, kinder to the self than trying to explain a grey area. Kinder to both parties, really._

"Uh, no. What Kitagawa's asking me to do will be entirely new to me."

_That's not even a lie, really._

"Hmm..." Akira couldn't tell whether Ann was skeptical, or simply lost in thought herself. Finally, seeming content to drop the matter, she exclaimed perkily, "Well, if you want any tips, I'm your girl! I know that posing for magazine shoots is a whole different ball game than fine art, but there has to be some overlap, right?"

"Y....yeah! If I decide to go along with what Kitagawa is asking, I may take you up on that."

"Great!" She smiled.

Together, they sat in a companionable silence for a few moments. It reminded Akira of the day they'd met, both seeking shelter from the rain under the same awning. At least until Kamoshida....and Ryuji....

Akira's brow furrowed as he remembered the reason Ann had stopped by to speak with him in the first place.

He broke the silence.

"Is....is Ryuji actually upset? I didn't mean to--like, I know I kind of stormed off, but I just didn't know what else to do."

Ann nodded, eyes straight ahead, then pushed herself up to standing. It was a struggle, as the couch buckled beneath her, attempting to swallow them both. Once successful in her escape, she paced the room, beginning a monologue she'd clearly at least semi-prepared.

"Yeah. He is. I know he didn't mean to--to out you like that. You know nothing's changed, right?" She fixed her gaze on Akira, who nodded.

"Yeah, I know. And I, uh, trust you with it anyway, Ann."

"Good! I'm glad!" A genuine smile lit Ann's face, and buoyed by that, she continued. "When it comes to Ryuji...I mean, he really values your friendship. I can tell. He's not the most subtle guy, you know. He's just kind of an idiot sometimes." She shook her head, a fond smile on her lips.

"Like, I've known him since middle school. Trust me when I say that this is a long-standing character trait." She laughed.

"But when he stepped between you and that guy....I think that was his half-assed version of trying to protect you. You know, like he spoke up for you the other day in Shibuya, when I wanted that selfie? I think that was what was behind all of his snarking over what Kitagawa had said. Honestly, I've never seen him that jealous before, haha."

_Jealous....?_

Akira hadn't thought to see Ryuji's behavior through that lens, and to be honest, he didn't truly buy it. What was there to be jealous over? Surely **Ryuji** didn't want to model either? Or was that not what she'd meant....?

But Ryuji awkwardly trying to look out for him? _That_ he could see.

He sighed. "So, should I apologize then?"

Ann looked genuinely surprised at the question. "What? No, why would you? He really was being an idiot, and I don't think either of us would blame you for being ticked off."

"But then, how do I.....?"

"Fix things?" she finished for him. He nodded. She leaned back against his desk chair, making the frail wood creak, as she considered what to say. "You know you....don't have to fix things, right? That sometimes things are just uncomfortable, and it is okay to just sit in that and feel it?"

_That sounds genuinely **awful**._

"I.....maybe?"

"Well, it's true. Nobody's really wrong here. He feels bad, you feel bad. He feels like he offended you, you feel like you overreacted. It's just how it is."

She shrugged, pushing herself away from the chair with the palms of her hands to stride across the room and peer into the attic's junk-filled industrial shelves. "But as long as you two don't avoid each other, things will go back to normal. I mean, it's fine if you feel like you _have_ to address it, but if you just let it lie....I mean I feel like you both will have learned something anyway, even without some big conversation."

"I guess......"

The idea of just letting it..... _sit there_ was anxiety-provoking, but he had to admit that what she was saying made sense. And it wasn't like he _wanted_ to apologize. It had just been the only way he had seen to resolve his compulsion to "fix" it.

"You know, you really should unpack. This attic would be less creepy with a personal touch." Ann turned to him, an enormous dust monster pinched between her fingers, her nose wrinkled in distaste. She flung it toward the stairs.

"Or maybe it'll make all of my possessions seem creepy by association. Who wants to turn their Jack Frost plushie into a ~haunted~ Jack Frost plushie?" Akira dug said plushie out of the tattered cardboard box he'd shoved on an out-of-the-way shelf, making it dance in the air as if to implore Ann to not make it risk possession from the clearly-present attic spirits.

She glowered. "Well now you're just being difficult. Come on, I'll help. Two pairs of hands makes for light work, right?"

Despite Akira's halfhearted insistence otherside, she planted her feet and dragged the cardboard box containing literally everything he owned out of its hiding place. "Huh. I honestly expected this to be heavier. Is this all there is?"

Akira shrugged. "Yeah, well, that's an average amount of stuff, isn't it?"

"I mean....if you're travelling for a weekend, maybe. Not for a year." She let the box fall to the ground, kicking up a plume of dust that she attempted to blow from her nose with a huff. "Is the rest of it in storage?"

"The rest of it.....?"

_How much "stuff" am I supposed to have? I mean....this is it, so....._

Akira hadn't visited another kid's room in years, so he truly had no frame of reference for how cluttered they were "supposed" to be with junk. He figured that whatever he had was perfectly adequate, and had never really let himself wonder otherwise. He vaguely remembered having more in his room before......before.....

**_[[ The acrid scent of melted plastic, the....... ]]_ **

He shook his head. Of course, replacing anything he'd lost hadn't been a priority. But now, faced with Ann's skepticism, he felt embarrassed about it for the first time.

So, he lied. Or, at least, leaned into her incorrect assumption. "Uhhh yeah. That's right. But, anyway, this is what's here, so..."

He watched, cringing internally, as Ann dug through the entirety of his worldly possessions, sorting it all into piles on the floor.

A spare school uniform, a ratty winter coat, and a dozen or so mismatched socks in ridiculous patterns made up the first pile. (Ann scoffed helplessly upon seeing that a trouser sock featuring dinosaurs being abducted by UFOs was unceremoniously balled up to "pair" with a lime green ankle sock.)

Incomplete collections of second-hand manga joined a handful of paperback books that included his tattered copy of _"The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde"_ in the second.

A cheap plastic first-aid kit that he snatched anxiously to stash in his desk drawer when her back was turned. An ancient candy tin full of loose change, spare pens, and an enamel pin featuring his hometown's local dairy company's cow mascot. A dog-eared deck of Pokemon cards held together by a twisted purple hair tie. A mostly-empty photo album. Three spare school notebooks. One red mitten. Dental floss.

As she surveyed her spoils, Ann seemed completely at a loss over how to "decorate" the attic with what she'd found. Again, Akira shrugged. "I tried to tell you."

"Well, this is.....huh." Ann turned to survey him, looking slightly concerned. Trying to be cheerful, she said, "You must really suck at packing, huh? We'll have to make another shopping trip to replace the things you forgot!"

"Yeah? I, uh, okay."

_I guess that wouldn't be awful. I'm not sure what my room is **supposed** to look like, but maybe Ann can make it more normal before I embarrass myself in front of anyone else._

She picked up the Jack Frost plushie from before, and set it firmly on the top shelf of Akira's desk. His jaunty blue hat and wide, toothy smile looked incredibly out of place in the otherwise bleak room. Still, she smiled, determined to make the best of it. "There, that's something at least."

Together, they spent a few minutes finally clearing the junk and cobwebs from the metal shelves, placing his book collection on the topmost rack. Ann even ran downstairs to fill an empty coffee tin with water, then returned to dampen the parched soil of a houseplant Akira had assumed was long dead.

_Honestly, it probably is. Now it's just dead and wet. But whatever knocks her socks off._

"What about this space back here?" School blazer tied around her waist, looking slightly overheated from the exertion of helping Akira drag attic junk to the dumpster behind Le Blanc, Ann gestured to the landing behind the stairs, which Akira had never paid much attention to. "Is this part of your room?"

"I guess so. I haven't really gone back there."

"Well, we might as well clear this out too, while we're already gross and sweaty. Come on!"

Akira trailed obediently behind Ann, halfway grateful to be forced into doing things he'd been unable to find motivation for on his own. He stepped around her to drag an end table out of the way, and entered the somehow-even-more-dusty rear half of the attic, pulling the chain of the single bare lightbulb overhead.

As he did so, something crinkled underfoot. He leaned over to pick it up, squinting in the dim orange light.

_A photograph? It's in rough shape._

Through several deep creases and a water stain, a small redheaded child stuck her tongue out gleefully. Flashing a classic peace sign, eyes crinkled shut with joy, the kid was seated on the lap of a petite, bespectacled woman who glowered at the photographer. Despite, perhaps, trying to look tough or unapproachable, a tenderness was betrayed by the arms she draped around the child's waist.

_They look...happy._

Unsure of what else to do with the photo, Akira stashed it in the drawer of the end table he'd moved, and returned to work. Maybe he'd bring it down to Sojiro later and ask who the pair in the photo was. Probably not, though.

Together, they spent the evening clearing junk from the attic, pausing only to run downstairs to shovel curry in their faces for dinner before returning to work. (When Ann tried to pay, Sakura refused her, insisting that she'd more than earned a plate of food for all she was doing 'cleaning this kid's room out for him.')

When night fell, and Ann departed to catch the last train home, Akira found himself feeling more satisfied than he had in ages.

The attic was still barren. Being honest with himself, it was also still creepy as fuck, and its newfound emptiness almost made that _worse_. (That dark void that now loomed beyond the stairwell was particularly eerie, and Akira would have been tempted to leave a light on back there, if he didn't fear running up Le Blanc's electric bill more than he feared potential attic ghosts.)

But, creepy or not, it was finally beginning to feel a bit like home.

As Akira crawled into bed, careful not to disturb Morgana, Jack Frost caught his eye, illuminated by a ray of moonlight streaming through his window. He smiled.

His pocket buzzed, a blue light flashing through the fabric into the dark room like a beacon.

      **Ryuji:**. hey uh....we cool, man?

Still smiling, he replied.

      **Akira:**. yeah, we're cool.  See you at school tomorrow.

_Thanks, Ann._


	18. Shack/Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira modeling, #1!
> 
> Sorry if the formatting is a little weird in this one. The app that I usually write in was acting up, so I switched to another, only to find that it didn't transfer well. Aghh. 😢

Akira stared in genuine awe. He’d struggled to find a piece of art in this exhibition that he identified with enough to compliment, but this piece, tucked in a rear corner, was full of such **raw fury….**

  
_Did anger like this….really come from that placid and satisfied old man? The one chuckling about his “humble shack,” and his contentedness as an artist?_

  
“This one.” Akira held out a finger to point at the fiery composition, drawing the attention of his host. “There’s something about it that I…”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe it came from the mind of that man chatting with staff up front. The energy coming from it speaks to me in a way that is….almost uncomfortable, if I’m being honest. But--" Akira glanced up at Yusuke uncertainly. “I don’t know much about art, but it is _supposed_ to be discomfiting, right? If it always felt good to look at….it would just be ‘pretty,’ and then easily passed off and forgotten.”

  
He’d been glad to find something he could express a genuine opinion about, and though he hadn’t dared to hope to _impress_ his guide, Akira had at least wanted to put him at ease. But, to his dismay, the boy had startled, his high, thin features twisting into a deep frown.

  
_Huh?_

  
_Did I say something wrong?_

  
Yusuke stood, silent, his eyes flickering back and forth between Akira and the painting behind him.

  
“I’m sorry, I must have said something stupid. Like I said, I don’t know much about--"

  
The blue-haired boy seemed to snap out of his daze, shaking his head to interrupt him. “Oh, no. Actually, you’re quite right, but….” Even when refocused, Yusuke’s voice was vague and uncharacteristically unsure. He laid one cold, firm hand on Akira’s shoulder, guiding him away from the hidden painting. His voice strangely bitter, he continued, “But there’s nothing special about this piece, I’m afraid. Here, perhaps…we can find another to your liking.”

  
_His hand is **freezing**. And I thought _ **I’d** _been cold lately…._

  
Akira shivered, but the Yusuke did not release his grip. Instead, he led him to a cluster of paintings deeper in the exhibit. All landscapes, like the piece Akira had focused on previously, these were disappointingly placid, and were done in a completely different, more impressionistic art style.

  
“What are your thoughts on these?”

  
Akira glanced up at the much-taller boy, suddenly aware of how close he was standing as he loomed over his shoulder. Piercing eyes looked down into his own, and he gulped, genuinely intimidated at being put on the spot for an opinion regarding something he felt very uneducated about.

  
His first instinct was to lie. To tell Yusuke that he liked the pieces he’d gone out of his way to show him. But as those dark eyes bored into his own, scanning for his reaction, he felt certain that the boy would parse out the falsehood.

  
Steeling himself for the possibility of offending the other, he replied, finally, “Thank you for showing me these, but they….don’t give me the same feeling that the other one did. It’s hard to explain. That other painting had a sort of…furious yearning to it? And these…”

He forced his eyes to break away from Yusuke’s scrutiny to trail over the landscapes. “They’re pretty. They’re in such a different art style than the others that it is hard to believe they were made by the same hand, but somehow I don’t think that’s the reason for the difference in feeling. I, uh….” Akira flushed. He’d run out of things to say, and feared he’d talked himself into a hole. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m blanking on anything else I’d meant to say. I hope this hasn’t been a disappointment to you."

  
“I see….” Yusuke muttered, reaching a hand out as if to touch the brushstrokes of one painting, then withdrawing it. “You sensed…..hmm…” He turned away, mentally backtracking. “No, no, this wasn’t a disappointment at all. You’ve given me some interesting things to think over. Thank you for that.”

  
He lightly pressed fingertips into the small of Akira’s back, guiding him away again.  Akira's skin pricked, hyper-aware of the touch.  

  
“There’s nothing else here.” Yusuke's voice was strangely melancholy.

  
Allowing himself to be led to the entrance of the exhibit, eyes scanning the crowd for Ann and Ryuji (who had darted off on their own once it became obvious that they were third and fourth wheels where Yusuke was concerned), Akira's mind wandered. He wondered what was behind the young artist’s moroseness.

  
_Hadn’t he been looking forward to showing off his teacher’s artwork? Or had I only assumed…?_

  
His head hurt from an afternoon of trying and failing to properly read the inscrutable boy. But if he couldn’t learn anything from Yusuke, what could he pick up from the exhibit himself? So many varied art styles. The emotional void of some pieces. The poignancy of another, at odds with its apparent creator.

  
_There's something wrong there. There has to be._

  
_And rumors of plagiarism…with Yusuke in the middle of this._

  
_Could that painting be--?_

  
“Shall we be going? We still have your modeling to discuss, after all.”

  
_\--ack!!_

  
In the loudness and vibrancy of the art exhibit, focused on not making an idiot of himself in front of his new acquaintance, Akira had nearly forgotten that the entire reason he’d been invited had been to give Yusuke an answer.

  
_And now we’re leaving the exhibit, and I feel like I’ve learned next to nothing! Nothing concrete, anyway, and what do suspicions count for? I need more time. And I suppose….I suppose that is a reasonable excuse, isn’t it?_

  
“Right. A—about that.” He stopped, drawing Yusuke off to the side to learn against a wall.

  
“Yes? So have you come to a decision?!” The artist’s face lit up with interest, and Akira couldn’t help but feel glad that he could, at least, do _something_ right for him that day, even if his reactions in the exhibit hadn’t been what he’d hoped for.

  
He nodded. “Yes. I’ll--I'll give it a shot at least.” He swallowed hard, mouth dry with sudden anxiety. “Although I can’t promise you that I’ll be any good at it. Or…or that I’ll be able to do it in the way that you want? I—ahhhh!” Akira startled as the other boy grasped his hands with his own frigid ones, smiling beatifically.

  
_For someone who can seem so distant and “above" things, this guy sure is touchy-feely when he gets enthusiastic. And…huh. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile before. It’s…._

  
With genuine exuberance, Yusuke thanked him, then dropped his hands to dig for his cellphone, insisting on exchanging phone numbers. “Thank you again. Please call me as soon as you are available. And, lay to rest your fears over your modeling prowess. I promise you—the way you stand, the way you naturally move your body—you will suit my needs perfectly!”

  
Akira self-consciously ran the fingers of one hand over the place where Yusuke had gripped his other hand.

  
_This is a little too much. How….how closely has he been watching me? And in what way?_

  
He caught what he was doing with his hands and, reddening more deeply, forced them apart.

  
_But I’ve agreed to it now. And, anyway, what’s wrong with it, if he was—_

  
Mouth dry, he watched the other boy wave goodbye while walking away, backwards. He raised a hand of his own to wave in response, then found himself flailing it in alarm to try to ward off impending disaster. “Yusuke- ahhh, watch ou--"

  
**_((THUNK))_ **

 

The artist had stumbled backwards with the grace of a newborn baby deer, right into a thick plaster pillar.

_Ouch._

Akira cringed in sympathy, but, other than being momentarily startled, Yusuke seemed entirely unaffected, regaining his composure almost instantly. It was almost impressive, honestly. It made Akira wonder, just how often was Yusuke so laser-focused on one thing, to the exclusion of all else, that he ran into things?

  
_He seems the type, that’s for sure. Completely socially oblivious._

  
_Maybe that’s why he’s so frustratingly impossible to read._

  
Disregarding the stares of the roomful of people whose gazes had been drawn by his near-fall, Yusuke cupped a hand around his mouth for volume, calling out, “Until I see you again, then!”

  
Akira felt dozens of eyes on himself as the attention of the station turned to the object of the strange artist’s shouting. Face burning, all he could do was wave another goodbye, gesture at his phone, and hold out a thumbs-up, hoping to get the point across without also having to shout through the crowd. This seemed to satisfy Yusuke however, who turned to leave again—this time, thankfully, facing forward.

  
_What a weird guy. I mean, not a bad person, but definitely, absolutely weird.  What have I gotten myself into?_

  
_…_

  
_I don’t get him._

  
_….._

  
_I wonder what I’ll be modeling for?_

  
Trying not to let himself speculate too deeply, he pulled out his phone with a groan, striding off to the outskirts of the station.

      **Akira** : Ann? Ryuji? Where the hell are you guys?

  
      **Akira** : because, uh, I’ve got something to tell you.

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

On the pathway to Yusuke’s—and Madarame’s—home, Akira was so focused on the task ahead that he completely missed the woman who had stepped into his path to accost him. It was only Ryuji’s sudden hand on his arm, yanking him back, that saved him from running into the woman, who was now staring at him with a sly look on her face.

  
“Um, I’m sorry, please excuse me.”  He moved to walk around her, but she held out a hand to block him.  He frowned, confused.

  
“Oh, don’t you dare worry about it! So, this place--" One hand hooked on the belt loop of her very vintage mom jeans, the woman gestured with the other toward the towering, ramshackle metal-sided structure on the corner of the street, which Akira now realized must be their destination.

  
_Shit. “Shack" is right. That artist lives here….?_

  
_This looks like a place where dreams go to die. Or people._

  
_Are they serial killers? With a serial killer shack? Did I fall for a weird murder-shack plot?_

  
_No, Akira, extremely unlikely. Focus._

  
“You know this is the residence of the artist, Madarame. There have been many purported incidents associated with the man lately, **if** you know where to look. And **I** know how to look.” She winked, in a way that was probably supposed to appear clever, but in Akira’s opinion only made her seem slightly drunk.

  
_Wait, **is** she drunk? She did pronounce “purported" as “pur-pur-dead.”_

  
As she leaned in, Akira confirmed the scent of sake on her breath.

  
_Ugh. What does this lady want?_

  
“Sooooo, I was wondering if you kids could give me the inside scoop? See, I’m Ichiko Ohya--" She turned to force a business card into Ann’s flustered hands, dropping several more on the sidewalk in the process. “I’m a reporter, with the--"

  
_A reporter?!_

  
Akira tensed defensively, remembering…

  
_**[[ Outside a crowded courtroom as he was released into his parents' custody, one snide voice rose above the cacophony.** _

_**“What, report on a punk kid like this? He's a dime a dozen. What's the point, when I've seen this story a thousand times over?”** _

_**A mousey woman, clipboard in hand, eyed him dismissively as he stared in numb shock over the guilty verdict that had just been handed down.** _

  
_**“Mark my words, within three years he'll be in a gutter -- dead drunk, or just plain dead.. You can see it in that blank look on his face. Kid doesn’t give a shit.” ]]** _

  
Hands slightly shaking, Akira knelt to retrieve a fallen business card from the ground, so he’d know who to avoid, if at all possible. Nothing good could come of involving himself with the media.

  
“Aaaanyway, if you kids think of anything, give me a call, okay?” The woman nodded, seemingly more to herself than to the perplexed teenagers she left behind on the sidewalk, and wandered further down the street, tapping away on her very dated Blackberry-style phone.

  
As she rounded the corner, Ann grimaced down at the card in her hand. “That reporter was so drunk.” She sniffed the card, and seemed to regret it, immediately dropping it to flutter down, joining its clones on the sidewalk.

  
“Ann!  Shit, that’s littering!” Ryuji stopped to scoop up the cards, then grimaced himself, wiping his hands on his pants. “Ugh, these reek like cigarettes.”

  
“And booze. Gross.”

  
“What? I wanna smell!” Morgana’s muffled voice called from inside Akira’s bookbag.

  
“No, you really do not.”

  
Ryuji held the handful of cards up to the half-open zipper, and Akira stumbled as the bag he was carrying morphed wildly from the flailing of the instantly regretful not-cat inside.

  
“Ew ew ew, that is **disgusting**! Get it away!  Uffff, my nose burns!”

  
Once he regained his posture, Akira decided against testing their assertions himself, shoving his own copy in his back pocket. Instead, he walked up to the front door of the shack, confirming via the nameplate beside the door that they were in the right place.

  
“Ichiryusai Madarame"

  
_Yup._

  
“Well, guys, uh, here we go.”  
He raised a hand to ring the doorbell, only to have Ann still it. She asked, kindly, “Akira, are you totally sure about this? There have got to be other ways to get information, if you aren’t.”

  
Akira nodded. “Yeah. At least I think so. And, besides, I want to learn more about Kitagawa-kun. He seems….how do I put this?” He frowned. “I just think there’s more going on with him than meets the eye.”

  
“I dunno what’s so fascinating about the guy,” Ryuji muttered, kicking a rock off of Madarame’s front step. “But if we’re gonna do this, let’s just get it over with, yeah?”

  
_What’s **that** about?_

  
For the first time, Akira wondered if Ann had been onto something about Ryuji being jealous. He’d have to think about that more later—he didn’t want his friend to feel…..left out? If that was what was going on. But, for now…

  
Akira gulped, and rang the doorbell, before he could lose his nerve. A tinny buzz rang out from deep within the building, and, after a moment of waiting, Yusuke’s thin, pale face peered at them through the crack in the door.

  
Looking down the line of his long nose, delicate brows furrowed, he eyed Ann and Ryuji drolly. “Oh. So you brought….the others. You two…your presence won’t be needed, you’re aware?”

  
Akira cringed.

  
_Ugh. After how different he was with me at the art exhibit, I'd forgotten how rude he could be._

  
Ann saved him by speaking up, overly-chipper, “Oh, we’re here for, uh, moral support! Akira was nervous, you know?”

  
The artist’s eyes fixed on his model thoughtfully. “Is that so?”

  
Akira nodded. “Um, yeah. I think I’ll be more comfortable if I….if I can have my friends here.”

  
With a sigh, Yusuke opened the door wide, ushering them through. “This _will_ work best if you are comfortable. Very well, if it is truly necessary.”

  
Ryuji piped up brashly, “ **Oh,** it’s definitely necessary.”

As he strode past Yusuke into the darkened house, the boozy aroma of the business cards still clenched in his hands apparently reached their host's nose, because Yusuke sniffed, went slightly grey, and brought a hand up to cover his nose, eyeing the blonde boy even more suspiciously.  Still, he said nothing, apparently willing to put up with a possibly drunken teenager if that was what it took to obtain his chosen model.

  
Entering, Akira blinked, eyes adjusting to the loss of the bright light from outdoors. For an artist’s atelier, the place was surprisingly….gloomy. Even if it was a shack, he’d expected to see color, _life—something_ reflecting the energy he’d seen at the art exhibit.

  
But there was nothing. As they followed Yusuke down a narrow hallway, socks snagging on ragged straw mats, all Akira could see was shades of grey and beige. He shivered. The place was freezing, and that only added to the sterile atmosphere. On top of that, it was….strangely damp. He sneezed.

  
_How can Kitagawa make art in a place like this?_

  
Ahead of him, Ann and Ryuji’s bright clothes stuck out sorely, like neon paint slapped on a black-and-white photo.

  
Though they looked out of place, Akira found himself uncomfortable at how… at home…he felt, in the austere shack.

  
_Maybe ‘at home’ isn’t right. I don’t know how to put it, though._

  
_I don’t like it at all. But, this place isn’t that weird to me. Maybe it is just that my room back….before Tokyo… wasn’t all that different. Well, maybe less tidy. Honestly I wouldn’t think twice about it, but Ann and Ryuji look like they’re walking on eggshells here. And after how Ann reacted to the attic…._

  
The pair ahead of him tiptoed, perhaps unconsciously, whispering to each other like they were in a museum. It was strange, what changing your environment could do to your mood. Akira’s own had dropped, and the confidence he’d built up with an internal pep-talk before setting out for the day was drooping. Even the usually-comforting weight of Morgana in his bookbag didn’t bolster his resolve.

  
_Familiar or not, I have to say, even my attic is more homey than this place._

  
Yusuke opened a door in the center of the hall, and guided them inside.

  
_Finally, light!_

  
The room inside was nearly as austere as the rest of the house, but, as what was clearly a studio, there were at least splashes of color within. Paint stained the floor mats in odd patches, most clustered around an easel that was set up in the center of the room, facing a row of large, bare windows. Akira stepped into the light, hoping the sun would warm him. Unfortunately, with minimal success.

  
Ryuji took Akira's bag (and Morgana) with a wink, then joined Ann in sitting in a pair of wooden chairs that were thrown carelessly along a far wall. Akira watched, holding his breath, as their smallest companion slunk from the bag and dashed from the room through the still-open door. Thankfully, Kitagawa was focused elsewhere, and seemed to have missed that entirely. 

  
The boy himself knelt along a low row of shelves, building himself a pile of art supplies on the floor from the contents. Sticks of charcoal, cotton balls, tight rolls of smudging paper. The boy’s fingers were already stained from the charcoal, and as he lifted a finger to pinch away a fallen strand of blue hair, that same finger drew a black line along his cheekbone.

  
Akira smiled. The obliviousness was kind of endearing, really.

  
Then, he remembered what be was there for, and the smile frayed into something more uncertain.

  
“So, uh, what should I do? Where do you want me to, um….”

  
The artist glanced up at him from his perch on the floor, then gestured to a small wooden stool in the corner. “If you wouldn’t mind, please drag that into the light, there--" He pointed to indicate his preferred position. “And be seated.”

  
Yusuke turned away to gather up what he’d collected and move toward his own seat before the easel.

  
Akira glanced at Ann and Ryuji. Ann shrugged, as if to say, “Well, it is what it is?” So, he did as he’d been directed, and then perched awkwardly on the slightly-too-low stool, knees bent.

Akira realized he was breathing extremely shallowly, and forced himself to inhale deeply, then exhale through his mouth. He’d mentally prepared himself for this, but now that he was here…..He didn’t know where to put his legs. How to angle his body. He knew—he knew some ways to do that, from—

  
_**[[ …………. ]]** _

  
But this was different. This was a wholly new experience, and he—he wanted to, needed to—

  
_How do I…_

  
_How do I do this?_

  
_I want to do this right, and I.....I want to pose well, but not like--what if something wrong shows through? And in front of Ann and Ryuji? I …._

He'd practiced for this, alone in the attic, but in front of his friends was evidently an entirely different feeling.

  
Akira found himself overanalyzing every angle of his body, and trying very hard to not look at his friends to gauge their reactions. Legs crossed and uncrossed, hands made their way to his lap, then were flung out to his sides. He leaned back to elongate his lean body, then cringed into himself. In the end, he looked utterly frozen and awkward.

  
Giving in, he glanced over at Ann, and the awful, sympathetic grimace she made, staring through fingers that half-covered her eyes, confirmed that he was doing just as poorly as he thought he was. He was mortified.

  
_Maybe I…should just pose the way I’m…..already familiar with._

  
He blanched, hands shaking.

  
_No. I wanted this to be different. That’s what I told myself this could be! But…_

  
_Why the hell is this so hard? I can….I know I should—Ugh!_

  
Finally, crestfallen, he murmured, "Um.....Yusuke? Maybe it would be best if you'd tell me how you'd like me to pose?"

The boy frowned. "No."

Akira waited for more. There was none.

Taken aback, he prompted shakily, "N--no??"

A small nod. "No. Too much direction will stifle and obscure your true spirit, which is what I wish to capture."

"Oh. I.....I see."

_My true spirit?_

Akira felt distressed. He knew how to play things for most people, how to anticipate what they wanted from him. But Yusuke was impossible to read, and now had refused to tell him outright what to do.

  
_What now? What--??_

  
_If I can’t figure out how to do this properly, differently, does this make my ‘true spirit’ what I can do, already?_

  
Suddenly the room was too cold, his clothing too scratchy, the air too acrid with the scent of turpentine and varnish.

_Was this a mistake? Was I an idiot to think that I could get myself to do this? I know we can find other ways to get this information....But I....I didn't just want to do this for the Thieves! I wanted to do it for myself as well! And now, I--_

His anxiety must have shown on his face. Suddenly, Ann rose from her seat, then crouched beside him. She took one of his shaking hands in her own, and leaned in with a whispered rescue plan. "Akira, just...don't pose."

"Huh??" He focused on Ann like a drowning man casting about for driftwood in the sea.

"If you try to 'pose,' it'll look frozen and awkward. Just sit there normally, and talk with us for a while until you forget why you're sitting there. Your body will fall into its regular posture, and you can work from there."

_That I can do. I think?_

  
“Thank you,” he breathed, letting out a grateful sigh.  
She shook her head. “It’s what we are here for, isn’t it? Don’t worry about it. Every new model has gotten a little stage fright! Even me!”

  
_Stage fright…..I guess it is similar._

  
Akira leaned into the light, vapid conversation of his friends, trying his best to lose his focus on the artist before him. Slowly, laboriously, his body relaxed, his knees unlocked, his hands unclenched, his lungs unfroze.

  
As he faded out of their chit-chat, he found himself dreamily focusing on the way the light reflected on the pair’s golden hair, how the corners of Ann’s lips turned up in her happy, catlike smirk, how Ryuji’s entire face could shapeshift in a single expressive moment—one second scowling, laughing uproariously the next.

  
He leaned back in the stool, legs stretched out, one hand toying with a wavy strand of his own hair, watching dust float in the cold blue light. His body still ached from the chill, but the sense of calm he’d gained from his friend’s presence made that feel strangely distant….

  
Time passed, and the sun began to drift down toward the treeline in the distance. Ryuji grumbled about dinner, and how much time they’d wasted. Akira caught Ann's eyes flickering toward the door, and in a quick glimpse saw Morgana dart back into his school bag.

  
_When did it get this late?_

  
_But, I did it! I actually--_

  
He looked up at Yusuke, who was frowning tragically at his easel.

  
_Uh oh._

  
“Hey, uh--" Akira coughed. His voice had creaked after being still and silent for so long. “Is something wrong, Kitagawa-kun?”

  
“This won’t do….” The boy muttered miserably.

  
“Huh? What’s that?” Ann cried out, eyes wide.

  
In one sudden, violent crunch, Yusuke ripped the sheet of paper from the easel, allowing it to flutter to the ground like an injured bird. Akira jumped in dismay, his heart pounding in his throat.

  
“K….Kitagawa-kun?! What …..did I do something wrong?!”

  
_I thought I’d at least relaxed enough, but—oh no—_

  
“What the hell?!” Ryuji yelled, annoyed. “Are you tellin' me we sat here all these hours for nothing?!”

  
“Ryuji, wait--" Ann tried to restrain him, but he wriggled out of her grasp and stormed into the space between Yusuke’s easel and Akira.

  
“Listen, you--" Ryuji lost a little steam from just how blandly Yusuke regarded him, but didn’t seem prepared to let that stop him. “We had another motive for coming here.”

  
“Is that so….?” The artist seemed barely interested, eyes flashing back down to gaze at his crumpled sketches.

  
Akira tried to intervene. “Ryuji, wait a minute, I--" but evidently his friend wasn’t having it.

  
Bluntly, he blurted out, “You’re bein' abused, aren’t you?”

  
**That** got the boy’s attention. Dark eyes focused on Ryuji coldly. “Excuse me?”

  
“We’ve heard about Madarame. He’s plagiarizing from his students, right? That include you?”

  
Akira saw the artist's already anemic complexion pale even further. As the boy’s shoulders tensed, Akira knew immediately that this was not going to have the result Ryuji had hoped for.

  
Haughtily, Yusuke exclaimed, “Don’t be absurd! How dare you imply such a thing! I….” Akira noted with concern that the boy's thin hands were shaking. “I owe my sensei everything! That you would slander him, in his own house--" He stood up to his full, imposing height, and gestured angrily to the door. “Get out at once!”

  
Under her breath, Ann muttered, annoyed, “Well, I saw _that_ coming,” as she slung Akira's bookbag over her shoulder.

  
Defensively, Ryuji raised his hands, backing away. Eyes wide, he exclaimed, “Whoa, man, you don’t gotta be so--"

  
_“Out!!”_ the boy shouted, at a volume that was honestly astonishing to hear from someone who had such a frail-seeming constitution. As Ann and Ryuji darted for the door, Akira rose hastily to join them, only to pause as he felt a hand on his wrist. In the doorway, his friends watched warily.

In a shaky voice, Yusuke spoke to Akira. “I will allow you back, if you will return. But only you. I cannot allow people in this house who will speak so poorly of the man who raised me. I hope you will return. I…” He took a deep breath, seeming pained, as he glanced again at his ruined sketches. “I must create a satisfactory painting before Madarame-sensei's exhibition ends. And, I think I know what went wrong today.”

  
_'What went wrong?' If he knew what I was doing wrong, why didn’t he just tell me?!_

  
Smooth, frigid hand still grasping Akira’s wrist, the artist insisted, “I was holding myself back, thinking of your modesty, but I….” He trailed off, clearly building up to something.

  
_My….modesty?_

  
Akira’s stomach flipped.

  
_I don’t think I like this._

  
He tried to wriggle his wrist out of Yusuke's hand. Looking startled, the artist released it immediately. "I will allow you back, but only if you will agree to be my ideal nude model! I truly feel that this is the only way to carry out the vision I have in mind!”

  
**_“WHAT?!?”_ **Ann and Ryuji shrieked, in unison.

  
Blood rushed, pounding in Akira's ears in a disorienting flood that made the voices around him sound like they were travelling underwater.

_Is this all this ever was? Some creepy excuse to--_

_Is that all he wanted? He had seemed so earnest, but of course, of course that's what he--!_

  
Suddenly, footsteps pounded down a flight of stairs nearby. An irritated, but not necessarily unkind, voice called down, **“Yusuke? What is the meaning of this racket?!”**

  
Yusuke stuttered, “Madarame-sensei! Two of these miscreants were just leaving, after being quite rude, but I—I am doing my best to secure my model for--"

  
Akira couldn’t focus. His head spun, his face flushed, his stomach churned.

  
_I wanted this to be different. But **that’s** what I was doing wrong?!_

  
_It’ll only work….nude?!_

"You pervert!" Ann muttered acidly.

"Pervert?!"  Yusuke seemed genuinely taken aback. "Why would you....?  Please don't ascribe such intentions to me!  I assure you, in the interest of art--!"

  
Ryuji grabbed Akira's wrist, dragging his frozen body away. Distantly, Akira heard his friend huff angrily, "There's no way you’re doing that! What a friggin weirdo!"

Behind them, from the doorway, Yusuke called after them, "Please, at least consider it! You have my contact information, should you come to a decision!

From beside them, Ann agreed. “I’m sorry, Akira, I really didn’t see that coming. But…” she continued, under her breath, “We shouldn’t need you to do that, right? Kitagawa-kun was clearly on the defense. Something’s up. I’d say we have enough to go on, to at least try.”

  
_“Shouldn’t" need to? So there’s a possibility?_

  
Akira miserably followed his friends out into the crisp evening air, which was inexplicably warmer than the interior of the atelier had been. Turning from his friends, he blinked back tears.

_Why tears?  Why do I feel so..._

More blinking, and a single sniffle was all he allowed himself. 

_.....so disappointed?_

His shoulders collapsed inward, resigned.

  
_But it’s done. It’s done, it’s fine, and now we have to move forward._

  
Shakily, he fixed his expression and drew out his phone.

  
_No matter what’s going on, I still have to lead._

  
“Okay.  Okay then. So we think Madarame has a Palace.”

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

_[[ As realization dawned on the faces of a quartet of thieves whose eyes scanned row after row of meticulously ‘curated’ student portraits, in reality a boy gazed shakily down at a painfully blank canvas._

  
_Fingers aching from cold, he edged a stick of charcoal closer to the white expanse, then dropped it with a flinch as a door was flung open. His downcast eyes couldn’t hide the sound of sandaled feet thudding across the cheap straw floor._

  
_A disappointed grunt. He couldn’t bear to see the frown he knew would accompany it. To let down the one he depended upon…..he was dismayed, flooded with guilt and self-recrimination._

  
_“Still nothing, I see, Yusuke? Even after all that time with your young model friend?  Hmph.  What a shame."  He drew out the syllables of that last sentence slowly, punctuating each with a shake of his head.  "I had looked forward to having you join me out for dinner tonight, to celebrate the gallery opening--"_

  
_The boy's stomach clenched painfully at the mention of a meal. But, he’d known what to expect, he shouldn’t—_

  
_“But, I’m certain you’ll thank me for this. After all, they say that suffering makes the soul burn brighter. Let’s see what this ‘suffering' will nurture, shall we?” A low chuckle accompanied receding footsteps. A slammed door. The deep rumble of an ignited car engine. And then, silence._

  
_Yusuke knelt on the floor, leaning into the silence. He wanted to believe that this was for the best. That what he was putting himself through was to better his art. To find beauty in discomfort._

  
_What was it that his model, Akira, had said?_

  
_“Art is **supposed** to be discomfiting, right?”_

  
_Head swimming in his hands, Yusuke strained hopelessly for some sort of enlightenment. But all he found in his mind was a shuddering, empty buzzing, and a sudden awareness of the numbness of his own lips._

  
_((But where is sensei’s discomfort, tonight?))_

  
_With immediate shame, he mentally castigated himself, running through the litany he’d been taught his entire life. Shack. Poverty. Simplicity. Humility.. Madarame’s devotion to his students, his sacrifices made to further Yusuke’s education._

  
_Yes, this shack, this frigid, lifeless shack, Yusuke was surrounded by evidence for the truth of Madarame’s teachings. The bare kitchen, the unheated water. The single ancient sheet on his futon, the mist of his breath as he readied himself for school every morning, body aching from a lack of….anything nurturing. Anything external that might feed the spirit. Surely Madarame lived the same life, and, so—_

  
_How dare Yusuke doubt his mentor, when he owed him…..everything?_

_In any case...._

_He tried to force his previous uncharitable thoughts from his mind.  They would do him no good, after all._

_Hopefully.....hopefully his model would return.  If he did, if Yusuke could do the simple work of finding inspiration for the painting Madarame needed, everything would be fine._

_**If** Akira returned..._

_((Did I...chase him away?  What a fool I can be.))_

_..._

_((Please come back.))_

_..._

_Time had passed, and the sun had set entirely. A deeper chill had set into the tin-sided shack, and Yusuke kneaded his hands in an attempt to restore feeling._

_A clock down the hall ticked, the only sound in the lonely studio._

_((Madarame must be well into dinner, by now.))_

_Dazed, he tried to recall the inspiration he'd found in a boy's confident, languid form, that day in the train station.  The enigma of that surety, combined in his eyes somehow with a distance and a darkness._

_But no matter how hard he tried, his exhausted mind would not cooperate._

_Yusuke sobbed once in frustration with himself, tugging at his hair. Then, he forced himself to breathe. The weariness that would, inevitably, follow the exertion from emotion would leave him with no energy for the work he needed to do._

_The young artist knelt forward and forced deadened fingertips to grasp the charcoal once more._ _]]_


	19. Baggage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nude modeling feels ahead!

Four thieves stumbled back out into the darkness of a barely familiar street, scowling.

"So was all this shit for nothing?" Ryuji exclaimed, only to be hushed by his companions. The street was dark, but a single light still burned on the ground floor of the tin shack, and the last thing they needed was another confrontation.

Whispering, (loudly), he continued, "Sorry, sorry! But if we can't get through that door....."

"I told you, I have a plan for that." Morgana spoke up. "Though I'm not sure if this guy will like it." He nudged Akira's foot with his furry forehead, and the boy lifted the not-cat from under his forelegs, raising him to stare directly into his night-wide feline eyes.

Akira frowned, too tired to have to be this suspicious. "What exactly do you mean, 'I won't like it'? If it's going to put you three in danger....."

His companion shook his head, allowing Akira to dangle him in the air, rear paws swaying in the cold night air. "No, nothing like that. It's just...." He looked away. "So, I've already seen a door just like the one barring our way. It was in reality. In that house." He nodded in the direction of the darkened shack.

Ann blew hot air into her hands, then unrolled the sleeves of her light hoodie. "In there? But what good will that do us?"

"From what I understand, everything in that Palace is tied to Madarame's cognition. The door in reality was locked up tight as well, and was clearly out of place with its surroundings."

Akira nodded, picturing the grey interior of the atelier. "Yeah, it would be. If it really was identical, something that flamboyant slapped in the middle of that bleak house would stand out."

"Yes, precisely."  Morgana went on. "I think, if we can open the door in reality--and, not only that, but _make Madarame see that the door is open_ \--its twin in the Palace will open as well."

"I kinda get it...." Ryuji muttered, rocking back on the balls of his feet, hands in his pockets for warmth. "But how are we supposed to do that, if we aren't allowed back inside there--ohhhhhhh!"

All eyes fixed themselves on Akira.

_They aren't saying--?!_

_Oh no._

Their gazes stayed fixed on him, all perfectly silent in the dark. A frog croaked. The wind rustled the leaves of the ornamental trees lining the street. Gravel crunched under Ryuji's still-swaying feet, as surety set in.

_They **are** saying that._

"You guys aren't allowed back in there....but I am. Is that it?" Akira's carefully measured voice broke the silence like a scythe through the grass. Despite his attempted composure, his friends cringed, silently confirming what was going through each of their minds.

He felt cornered.

Teeth gritting as he realized the implications, Akira recalled Ann's words earlier in the day--

_[[ "We **shouldn't** need you to do that, right?" ]]_

_Even then, she'd considered--_

Akira flinched, accidentally squeezing Morgana so hard that he yelped, flailing out of his hands to land on the sidewalk.

"I _told you_ you weren't gonna like it."

"Oh, man. You're gonna have to go nude."

Akira turned to Ryuji in shock. "W--what?! You're on board with this too?!"

"Guys, quiet!" Ann hissed. "If we're going to talk about this, we need to start walking back to the station."

Perfectly happy to stalk away at this point, Akira turned to walk with his back to the evening wind. As he did so, under his breath, he continued to question his friends. "What is there to _talk_ about? Do I...." His tone turned miserable. "Do I really need to do this?"

Without Morgana's furry body in the way, his hands made fists as they swayed at his side, his feet carrying him as quickly as possible through the orange-tinted evening street.

His mind spun, already exhausted from an afternoon spent pushing aside his own discomfort for the team, followed by fighting his way through half a palace without the use of Arsene. (He was still afraid to use him, after the battle with Kamoshida had.....no, this was not the time to add those worries to the pile.)

From behind him, Ryuji finally spoke up. "I mean, you shouldn't _actually_ go nude. Like, of course not, man! Although--" he muttered "--isn't that kinda normal for artsy shit?"

Glancing behind himself at his friends, Akira saw Ryuji gesture toward Ann, looking for confirmation.

Put on the spot, she replied hesitantly, "Yeah, I mean, I guess, nude models are pretty normal. But you don't usually pick yours off the street. People make that choice on their own."

_Make that choice..._

Akira ran a hand over his face, then tangled it in his hair, fretting.

_I **had** already made the choice to model for him. Am I overreacting? Is this a normal next step, and I'm just freaking out because of my own--my--_

_**[[ ............... ]]** _

_\--baggage?_

He slowed his walking, finally stopping his stride to seat himself on a low brick wall. His friends drew up beside him, the gloom of evening deepening the concern showing on their faces.

"Akira? What is it?"

Ann settled in beside him and took his hand. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the chirp of night insects and the croak of frogs from a small marsh beneath a nearby footbridge. Ryuji milled aimlessly on the sidewalk, kicking rocks, pausing now and then to glance at his friends. The sky darkened further, and as he stared into it, Akira could barely make out the first star of the evening. He struggled to gather his resolve.

"I don't want to do this at all. Do I have to?" he asked, in a tiny voice.

Running a thumb over the back of his hand, Ann replied, "We won't make you. But right now, I don't see another way.  We could pick another target, but....we already know that Madarame has distorted desires.  Walking away now would mean leaving Kitagawa-kun to deal with that alone."

Quietly, he mumbled, "I don't want to do that.  I won't abandon him."

Morgana rubbed his soft forehead on his ankle from the ground. "I'm sorry, Akira." He sounded contrite over his part in the plan.

The boy leaned down to scratch behind a furry black ear. "It isn't your fault. It's Madarame, right?" He took a deep breath. "Ryuji?"

"Yeah, man?" The blonde jogged over to his side. "What can I do?"

With a note of hope in his voice, "You said that I, er, 'shouldn't _actually_ do it.' What did you mean?"

"Well, I, uh....I don't really have a plan or anything," Ryuji admitted. "But, if we can get the door unlocked quickly enough, you shouldn't have to model at all, right?"

Morgana agreed. "That's right! I mean, it is all dependent on when Madarame makes his entrance, but...."

Thoughtfully, still rubbing circles on the back of his slender hand, Ann added, "So, this could be more about stalling than modeling, really."

_Stalling...._

"So, I should lie to Kitagawa-kun?"

Ryuji laughed. "It's better than actually gettin' nude for him right? I mean, uh," he coughed awkwardly, "unless you're into that."

Akira flushed, gripping Ann's hand harder. "I'm not into that."

"Then yeah man, lie. It's still to help him in the end, so no harm, right? It seems like he only wants this painting to give to Madarame anyway....so...."

Darkly, Akira murmured, "That may be true...."

_But does that make it okay....?_

Chilly wind whipped his hair, forcing him to stay mentally grounded. He sighed.

More sure now, with his friend's support, he cast out for suggestions, slowly, "Then, how do we make this work? How do I stall for time?"

Ryuji smirked. "Well, you could keep him talkin'. Like," he mimicked, in a girly affect, 'Oh, Kitagawa-kun, tell me more about your art! I want to hear all about your, uh, paints, and brush stroking, and--'"

Face buried in the hand Ann wasn't holding, Akira muttered miserably, "Alright, that's enough, I get it. Ugh, I-- I guess I can do that."

"Oh! I've got an idea!" Ann bumped her shoulder into his, shaking his hand gently. "What if we make it harder for you to....uh....to strip?" Her voice was deliberately light, but had still quavered awkwardly on the last word.

_I hate this whole thing._

"Harder how?" a dejected Akira forced himself to ask.

"Like, lots of layers, or buttons, or--I dunno, something like that?"

Akira shook his head. "Ann, you've seen my clothes. I have next to nothing...uh, here in Tokyo, anyway."

"Oh, that's right...." She kicked her feet rhythmically against the brick wall, thinking.

Ryuji snapped his fingers, startling them both. "Wait, I have something that might help!"

"Oh yeah?!"

He nodded. "Yeah. Lots of buttons, right? You're a little taller and thinner than me, so it might not fit great, but I have this suit my mom bought me ages ago to wear to a funeral. It's pretty plain, but it is a whole deal--button down shirt, vest, suspenders, like, a ton of shit to work through. I know it took me ages to get into the damn thing."

_That could work....but what is it going to look like, for me to show up dressed so formally? Though I suppose it won't matter, if this finishes things._

_It had better finish things._

"I....ugh. It'll have to work, won't it?"

Morgana leapt into his lap, staring into his eyes. "We won't let you down, leader! I'll pick the lock on that door while you stall him, and the others will wait in the Palace for the door to open."

As much as he hated it, Akira couldn't see a better plan.

_Maybe this sort of thing....is really what I'm good for._

A pit of sadness in his heart, he nodded in assent.

"Okay. I'll...I'll wear the suit, and stall him. Give me a couple of days to work up to it, and I'll text Kitagawa to agree. Sound good?"

"Yeah." His friends smiled gratefully, and Akira did his best to look more confident than he felt. "Thanks, Akira. We've got this! Just let us know when you're ready, okay?"

"I will."

He released Ann's hand, and launched himself from the wall with a shove, landing lightly on the ground below. Morgana followed with an equally graceful leap, and together, the thieves made their way back to Shibuya, and their separate, lonely homes.

Cheek pressed against the cold glass of a train window, Akira gave his body over to the gentle swaying of the train car. His head aching from stress, the cold felt soothing. He leaned into it, heavy, shadowed eyelids closed.

_If this is the only way..._

_I mean, I've already contemplated murder. Why should something like this hold me back from seeking justice?_

_**[[ .............. ]]** _

He was tired of his mind trying to recall things he couldn't stand to remember. He needed to get out of his own head, but between fatigue and too-familiar pains reopening wounds, that seemed nearly impossible that evening. Especially now. Alone.

Akira opened one eye, cringing in discomfort from the train's florescent light. Beyond the chilled glass, a city glimmered like dark, roiling water under the moon, unaware of his problems, or of their fight. With one finger pressed to the glass, he traced an abstract pattern in the steam he'd left from his own breath, then wiped it away with one limp, halfhearted swipe.

_I'll be what I need to be._

_Even if I hate myself._

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Akira procrastinated on contacting Yusuke for several days. He'd rather spend his evenings half-dead as The Plague's guinea pig than open that can of worms. At least, not yet. Each day he told himself, "Maybe tomorrow," but every tomorrow was met with the same rejoinder.

On the third day, however, his hand was forced by an early morning text message just as he'd tugged his school shoes on, preparing to walk downstairs for another dose of curry-for-breakfast.

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : Can we speak?

_Well, crap._

      **Akira** : I.....

 ** Akira**: **(( ••• ))**

_Get it over with. You already decided, didn't you?_

He let himself fall heavily back onto his makeshift bed, head aching. He hadn't slept well. Dreams and memories stirred up by this situation had plagued him for days, adding to his unwillingness to delve more deeply into their plan.

Thankfully, he'd avoided being tugged back into the Velvet Room in the night. In his state of mind, he wasn't sure he could handle another confrontation with the irascible Caroline. Or with Igor.

_Maybe I shouldn't be avoiding that place, though. Should I ask those twins to help me find a Persona with more courage?_

Akira shook his heavy head. It was tempting, and he'd consider it. But part of him felt that this was a problem he had to solve as himself. Fully himself. And he....didn't want to feel out of control.

_I hate this._

_But...._

_Even if it makes me feel....unhappy.  Or whatever this feeling is...._

_Kitagawa needs help, too. I can't let someone be abused just because they accidentally targeted my own hang-ups._

_When it's already been made clear that you have to agree, forcing someone to wait to be saved is just....every day he's stuck like that is on me, isn't it?_

_Selfish._

Akira leaned back against the wall behind his bed, nestling his head into a recess of brick exposed by crumbling plaster. Flakes of the stuff fluttered down, littering the black shoulders of his uniform blazer. He pulled his blanket back over his knees, took a breath, and typed.

      **Akira** : okay

 ** Yusuke** **Kitagawa** : Oh! Good morning! And, thank you.

_Wow, he's formal, even in texts._

Waiting for Yusuke to say...whatever he was going to say, Akira stared out of his dingy window, idly watching a familiar little crow build its nest. After tucking a small strand of straw into the weave with its beak, it paused to eye him with a single gleaming black eye. It flapped its wings, chittering. He looked away, leaving it to build its home in peace. His phone buzzed.

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : I've been reflecting upon your friend's remarks, as she exited the other evening.

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : I apologize if I was too forward. I...discussed the matter with a peer in my life drawing class this afternoon, and she made me aware that the request I made of you may have been somewhat irregular.

_You **think?**_

_.....but honestly, in my experience, I suppose it isn't that 'irregular'. Can I even blame him?_

_If he's apologizing, though....shit. If I've stalled so long that I dropped the ball--_

      **Akira** : Does this mean you've changed your mind, about needing me?

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : Ahhh. No, I still require you, if you are willing. But there are certain steps that can be taken to ensure your comfort, if you are interested...?

      **Akira** : **(( ••• ))**

_Huh._

Akira had half-expected pressure, or, possibly, some kind of coercion. Not....not that.

A spark of hope igniting in his chest, he replied.

      **Akira** : such as?

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : Then, you'll consider?!

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : No, I'm getting ahead of myself. My apologies.

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : For one example, we could split your modeling into multiple, smaller sessions, only the first of which would require nudity.

_That's.....thoughtful, but won't help us get what we need from Madarame. And still involves....._

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : In addition, while I say "nude," a mostly-satisfactory reference could be drawn while mostly-nude, but wearing skin-toned undergarments. This would provide the illusion of nudity, while still preserving a certain amount of modesty.

_I.....maybe?_

He hadn't considered that. Akira didn't know if it would work, really, but the fact that it was being offered...

That was new.

      **Akira** : that actually might help. Thank you

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : Please! I should be the one to thank you, for even considering! So, does this mean...?!

_Maybe...It can still be different, after all. And with Ryuji’s suit buying me time, I may not even need it. But, the fact that Yusuke is willing to back down and consider my comfort, even if it isn't wholly working..._

_Maybe I wasn't completely wrong to want to trust him._

He typed three letters, finally committing to his choice.

      **Akira** : yes

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : Ah! Wonderful! If I may ask, when will you be available? I need to plan.

      **Akira** : this Saturday afternoon should be fine

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : Then it's a date

**_.......what?!?_ **

Flustered, Akira tried to rise to his feet, only to entangle his legs in the blanket he was wrapped in and plummet off the side of his bed, braining himself on a metal shelf. A flurry of books thudded down on his shoulders as he sprawled, face down, on the dusty wood floor.

 _Owwwwwwww. Shit._  
_I think I gave myself a splinter._

From downstairs, Sojiro Sakura shouted in alarm, **"Everything alright up there, kid?!"**

Forehead still pressed uncomfortably into the rough floor, Akira yelled a somewhat muffled reply. **"Yes, Sakura-san! Sorry!"**

When he'd finally succeeded in kicking the blanket from his ankles to right himself, he saw that in his fall he'd flung his phone nearly to the edge of the stairs.

Also, the noise had startled Morgana awake, and the snoopy guy had, rather than help him, bolted to the stairs to read his texts.

"Morgana--! Ufff--" He stumbled as he pulled himself to his feet, a little dizzy from the smack to the head. "That's rude. But hey, it isn't broken, is it?"

"Nope, it's fine. So you finally picked a day for our infiltration, huh? You'd better craft me some lockpicks."

"I'll....get _right_ on that."

_Shit, that was a close call. If it had fallen, and shattered--what happens if I lose the Metanav?_

_Well...I suppose, I'd buy a new phone, and one of the others would have to piggyback me into the Metaverse, with the hope that it would install itself again?_

_Would it be safe, even, to dispose of the old one? What if someone found it, took it apart, and used it as evidence somehow? Or used it to access the Metaverse themselves?_

_What if it got that person, as a non-Persona-user, killed? Would that be my fault?_

Akira knelt to retrieve the object of his worries, thankfully unharmed apart from a scratch on the case. As he did so, all thoughts were dashed from his head by the appearance of a new text on the screen.

      **Yusuke Kitagawa** : Excuse me, I sent that too quickly. Then it's a date to mark on my calendar--the beginning of the creation of what I hope will be a true masterpiece!

_Yes, obviously that is what he was saying, Akira. That makes way more sense than "it's a weird naked art date!" Jesus christ._

Flustered, Akira replied.

      **Akira** : sounds good. See you Sat, then.

Walking gingerly back to his bed, rubbing his injured forehead, Akira cradled his phone in his hand and sent one more text, to a different recipient.

      **Akira** : Ann....please don't judge me for this question, but, where do you buy nude-colored underwear??

 


	20. Distance/Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly from Yusuke's perspective. Shouuuuld be switching back for the next one. :)

A door clicked shut behind him, and Akira's Morgana-weighted schoolbag felt heavier than usual, as their plan commenced.

Swallowing, eyes darting around the gloomy, grey atelier for something, _anything_ to focus on, Akira tugged at Ryuji's thin black tie. Ann had tied it too tightly, and he felt strangled.

_[[ "Don't worry, man, we've got this. You do your part, set Morgana loose, and we'll be waiting in the Metaverse to get through that locked door."_

_"Yeah. See you on the other side." ]]_

Ahead of him, Yusuke was chattering, mostly to himself. If it wasn't for the fact that Yusuke had _planned_ this--and, in fact, insisted upon it--he'd have thought the artist was nearly as nervous as he was.

"Madarame-sensei will be gone from the studio for most of the afternoon. I hope this will serve to increase your level of comfort--I--we can cut this session short and meet again, if he returns and you desire greater privacy."

_Privacy...._

Counterintuitively, considering his own feelings, that was exactly the opposite of what they needed.

_I can't let them down.  And..._

He eyed the other boy briefly, through his own messy bangs. 

_This is for his sake, too.  I won't mess this up._

He stopped short, still in the atelier's dim foyer. "Um, Kitagawa-kun, what time will Madarame be returning?"

Dark eyes widened with concern. "So, you _are_ worried?"

Akira shook his head and lied. "Oh, no, it's not that. I just.....don't want to be surprised."

Yusuke peered up at a clock hanging on the wall of the main hallway. He seemed to be struggling to make out the time through the gloom. "He should be....er....we have at least an hour before he returns." Returning his focus to Akira, his lips pressed together anxiously. "Is that acceptable to you?"

_He **is** nervous. I wonder....._

_Then again, I'm sure he has a lot on the line here._

_An hour....I have to stall him for an hour. Well, that, or just go through with it._

Akira nervously fingered the buttons of Ryuji's black blazer. It hung off of him a little awkwardly, too loose in the shoulders, too short at the hem.

_Either way..._

"Yeah, it's fine. Let's go."

  
He squared his shoulders, and forced himself forward.  Vaguely, he felt like he was walking into his own funeral.  Maybe it was apt that he'd dressed for one. 

  
_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

_[[ Earlier that morning......_

_Yusuke stretched, then forced his eyes open to greet the bright light of morning streaming through his bedroom window. Gaze falling on the ceiling, he played his familiar childhood game of trying to discern figures and patterns in the water stains on the sagging ceiling tiles._

_Two women, dancing. A yawning fox. An ouroboros. The last, perhaps, too relevant at the moment, as he felt as though his stomach was trying to eat itself._

_The weekends were always the hardest. At Kosei, there was a designated lunch period, and despite sensei's insistence that enforced asceticism was necessary for artistic development, somehow he seemed willing to let this lapse when under the eyes of others. But at the atelier...._

_Yusuke yawned, forcing himself upright. Usually he avoided interacting with others on these off-days. He knew he could be short and irritable when exhausted to this degree, and preferred to choose isolation, rather than subject people to such behavior. But, a Saturday was the date that worked best for his model, so..._

_He'd just have to work through it._

_Looking down at himself, he grimaced. He'd fallen asleep in his school uniform again, and would have to iron it._

_(( Why did I....? ))_

_Looking back, he couldn't even manage to recall getting into bed the previous night._

_(( No matter. I'll handle that this evening, after my work for the day is complete. I can only hope--no, I **know** things will go better this time. They must. And, with my ideal model, willing to--! ))_

_Yusuke smiled, alone, for only himself. He closed his eyes, recalling the composition he had in mind, though its finer details skimmed along the periphery of true realization, just out of reach._

_(( The duality of distance and desire -- that which is wanted, but rejected, until need builds up with a crescendo, declaring, "Feed me and keep me, or unleash me and allow me to tear myself apart!" Somehow, I know I can achieve this, and in time for--for-- ))_

_He stumbled on his thoughts, smile fading at the reminder of the limitations placed upon him. He had his model, his inspiration, his (debatable) talents. But he was under a constraint of time and, perhaps....palatability._

_He forced himself to remember,_

_(( This piece isn't for me, for my own satisfaction. It must be suitable for Madarame's exhibit. But, must I dull my inspiration, to fit it into that mold? I-- ))_

_His heart clenched, sending a wave of dizziness through his body. Frustration, and the most meager allowance of anger._

_(( I know what I want to create! What I see, in Akira Kurusu....but, when I told sensei.... ))_

_Yusuke recalled the dressing-down he had received, after three days without progress._

[[ "Yusuke, an artist without art to present to the public is the most useless of creatures! The concept you have in mind -- you must know that you are entirely unable to fulfill something of that scope in the time frame I require. "

"And, truly, you know that such a thing would be.... inappropriate.... for my audience." A dark scowl on the face of his teacher made the young artist flinch.

_(( Inappropriate? But, I-- ))_

"I didn't think that I was supporting someone who would behave in such a selfish manner. You know that it is already a struggle to provide the roof that is over your head, the tuition for your education. Would you see us fail and fall to dust, forgotten?"

"N--no, sensei! Of course not, I--I see. I'll....I'll do as you require." ]]

_(( But....the work I have in mind....I--I don't want to give it away! ))_

_Yusuke recalled a story he'd heard, sweeping through Kosei months past. An artist who had never wanted his artwork auctioned had installed a mechanism inside which allowed him, through remote control, to shred that same artwork once it had been sold against his wishes, much to the horror of a gallery of onlookers._

_Idly, he fantasized about methods he could use after his future artwork was already put on display. That, somehow, he could please Madarame by having provided the necessary artwork, only to destroy it before the world saw it and declared it the masterwork of another._

_In his mind's eye, he saw the painting he had planned...dead. Pale hands drowned in turpentine, the lines of a lithe body shredded by razors, lips dancing in flame and falling to ash. He smiled at the fantasy, only to catch himself and flinch in horror._

_Was this really what he'd reduced himself to?!_

_(( Dreaming of sabotage?! And, for what, jealousy over who my artwork will be attributed to? That's....I know that's disgusting. Sensei would be disappointed in me, he would-- ))_

_He rolled over on his futon, kneading the bridge of his nose with one tremulous hand, trying to remind himself of the Truths he had had drilled into himself since he was first of the age to hold a paintbrush._

_(( Isn't he the one who taught me, 'Joy and satisfaction should be found in the mere act of creation, not from the rude praise of the masses'? ))_

_(( Helping to ensure that Madarame-sensei may endure.....this is what will allow both of us the means to continue to create. This is all that I can do for him, the one I owe my life to. I've already agreed to this, a thousand times over. And, so-- ))_

_A knock at the door startled Yusuke out of his reverie. Panicked, he tapped the screen of his phone, and read out loud, "Twelve o'clock?! No--! How did I allow myself to sleep to this hour?! Is Kurusu here **now**?!"_

_Woozily forcing himself to his feet, he frantically tried to brush out the myriad wrinkles in his school uniform, with only middling success. Hand braced against a wall, he tugged socks on, ears tuned to the sound of knocking at the door, repeating its refrain._

_(( That must be him! I--this was not at all how I'd planned--! ))_

_Yusuke had wanted to appear confident, composed. He wanted to put his model at ease. He'd been planning to step out that morning with money he'd scrimped for the past week to purchase some sort of snack for Kurusu -- perhaps pastries? Coffee? The sort of thing he'd seen offered to models brought in for Kosei's art classes._

_Instead, he found himself utterly dishevelled, leveling bleary, shadowed eyes at the boy on his doorstep whose remarkable appearance made Yusuke feel even greater regret for his own late start._

_Akira Kurusu stood, rigidly, on his front step, in a formal suit and tie. On second glance, Yusuke’s critical eye noted a certain cheapness to the garment, and a lack of proper fit--the sleeves were too short, and at his ankles, two garish and entirely disparate socks showed through a several inch gap. Were those....cats? Riding narwhals? But, somehow, this raggedness added to the overall charm of the effect. A boy, taking time to ready himself for an important moment, heedless of his own lack of skill in the matter. It was--_

_Yusuke caught himself, realizing he'd simply been staring at the dark-haired boy. He winced in embarrassment, and finally spoke up. "Thank you for coming so promptly. I apologize for my own lack of readiness. I seem to have lost track of time."_

_Kurusu shrugged. The motion drew his too-short sleeves even further up his forearms, where they remained, exposing a strip of pale skin. "It's fine. Unless you need me to come back later?" There was a hint of anxiety in his eyes, and Yusuke mentally chastised himself._

_(( I've already failed at putting my model at ease. What can I do now? I....I need this to be a success. ))_

_A bit at a loss, he stepped away from the door, and gestured to usher the other boy inside. "Oh, no, now would still be ideal. Please, come in. I assume that you remember the way to the studio?"_

_From the way Kurusu's eyes darted around the atelier's dark interior, Yusuke was forced to consider that he, perhaps, did not remember after all. Then again, even Yusuke could not deny that the greater part of his home was largely forgettable. He shouldn't be surprised._

_Trying to allay his model's apparent discomfort, Yusuke added, "Madarame-sensei will be gone from the studio for most of the afternoon. I hope this will serve to increase your level of comfort--I--we can cut this session short and meet again, if he returns and you desire greater privacy."_

_The other boy merely frowned, his brow furrowed in thought._

_(( I....I clearly lack the skills for this. ))_

_(( What can I do, to put him at ease? ))_

_Kurusu's bright eyes raised to meet his own, and he inquired, with a strange rigidity, "Um, Kitagawa-kun, what time will Madarame be returning?"_

_(( He's concerned about sensei's presence? ))_

_"So, you **are** worried?"_

_The boy shook his head, soft black hair falling into his eyes to obscure his expression. "Oh, no, it's not that. I just.....don't want to be surprised."_

_(( What **is** sensei's schedule today? He isn't due at the exhibit until this evening, but I recall that he had some other, unnamed obligation this morning. Ah--yes, he'll be back a little after one o'clock. He'd promised to bring miso soup, to celebrate if I had made progress. ))_

_Yusuke stepped into the dim hall of the atelier, eyes scanning the clock on the wall._

_(( 12:15. I've already lost a quarter of an hour lingering here. But, I cannot despair. ))_

_"He should be....er....we have at least an hour before he returns. Is that acceptable to you?" He turned to face his model, and noted that Kurusu was fidgeting awkwardly with the buttons of his clothing, face still lost in shadow._

_"Yeah, it's fine. Let's go."_

_Yusuke couldn't be entirely certain if that was the truth, but his mind darted nimbly around that reality as he focused on the task ahead. On the artwork he had planned, and the possible rebellion at hand, if he completed it in the manner his heart demanded._

_Soft footsteps fell behind him as he lead the taciturn youth to the studio. In his mind, he turned over the decision he had come to._

_Just as he had, in the end, decided that the daydream of destroying his future artwork was abhorrent, so too did he feel that diminishing it to make it palatable for the review of the masses would be unacceptable. If anything, diluting it so--it was another form of destruction, was it not?_

_This rebellion, this small rebellion....in the past, he would not have dreamt of it. But this model..._

_(( I owe him greater justice than that. ))_

_Holding open the door to the studio, he eyed the boy's form once more with the eyes of an artist._

_Kurusu held an undeniable charm and allure in his aura, in the confident and easy way he moved his body. But there was something in his eyes. Something that held him apart, that never seemed to quite....settle into reality. A person that the world could desire to hold with every bit of its being, but who is kept apart from it forever by some queer quirk of nature or nurture._

_A voice pierced the air, breaking Yusuke from his reverie. Purposefully calm, yet still strangely breathless. "I....I apologize, but I have to ask. Just what are you hoping to work toward with this?"_

_Heavy-lidded grey eyes met his own, and Yusuke found his own breath catching from the unexpected intensity emanating from them. "Work toward?"_

_Kurusu set his bag in a corner, then wandered the studio. A single hand trailed across the mundane artifacts of Yusuke's everyday life, somehow imbuing each of them with greater power and interest just with that simple touch. The low shelf of paints and tools. The futon, rolled and set against the wall, that he occasionally slept in downstairs when struggling to meet a deadline. The frame of his easel. The sill of the window, barely warmed by the morning sun. Each awakened under his curious, meditative hand. Yusuke held his breath, enraptured._

_(( This. This strange aura, and lingering power. This is why I had to choose **him,** and no other. ))_

_"I admit, I have only a...rudimentary understanding of what makes art....'Art.'" As Yusuke watched, his model's long fingers traced the handle of a paintbrush he'd left to dry on the wooden stool in the corner. Somehow, Yusuke sensed that from that moment on, it would always be The Paintbrush in his mind. Possibly, because he would associate it with the making of his own great work of art?_

_"It's possible that with a fuller understanding of what this means to you, I'll be....more comfortable with nudity in the name of art."_

_Yusuke swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Yes, that was what was necessary for the creation of the piece he had dreamed of, and if it helped, he could--ah--_

_With beginnings now on his mind, the artist finally settled on a point with which to enter the conversation. "Let me show you the work which first defined 'Art' to me. Perhaps it will also illuminate matters for you."_

_With long strides, Yusuke stepped eagerly across the room to retrieve a well-worn art book. As he opened it, its pages naturally fell open to a clearly-favored page. A woman's mysterious but passionate gaze called out to him from paper, as it always had. "This is Madarame's maiden work, the Sayuri. Do you see, here, the look in her eyes? There's a kindness to the set of her mouth, but in her eyes, this mysterious solemnity is present. Ah, but I shouldn't be explaining things. Look for yourself."_

_He handed over the prized book with bated breath, and was pleased to see Kurusu regard it with clear respect, and possibly even reverence. "I see. So it was this woman who guided you into becoming an artist?"_

_(( This woman? No, I....but perhaps....? ))_

_Yusuke had opened his mouth to argue that **Madarame** had ushered him onto the path of artistry, not a mysterious woman, but strangely couldn't bring himself to declare that, after all. Maybe it was because, through the book's still-open pages, he could still feel the eyes of the Sayuri herself, watching him. In the end, he merely replied, "I suppose it was."_

_Kurusu handed the book back to him gently. "Thank you for showing me. That painting was stolen, wasn't it?"_

_Yusuke's heart twisted with pain at the thought of the loss. "Yes. By a former student, who was jealous of my sensei's talents. It was a true tragedy."_

_"I'm sorry. I hope you'll see her again someday."_

_Yusuke made as if to speak, intending to thank him for the sentiment, but was distracted by the appearance of Kurusu's phone from his blazer pocket. The boy had tapped on the home screen, and frowned._

_(( Is he checking the time? **The time**! ))_

_(( I've been distracted, and I--I can't keep him here forever. ))_

_"Perhaps..." Yusuke swallowed nervously, suddenly uncertain. "Perhaps it is time to begin, now, if you--"_

_The boy before him flinched just-perceptibly. A less trained eye might have missed the motion, but Yusuke could not deny it. Still, Kurusu nodded. "O--of course. So, how do you want me to do this? How do....do you have models like this at school?"_

_"Models like this--oh, you mean nude models?"_

_Another nod, as Kurusu awaited his answer._

_"Yes, upon occasion. At Kosei, they sometimes change behind a screen. I'm afraid I have nothing of the sort here in my studio." Chagrined, Yusuke regretted the oversight. "I could simply turn around?"_

_Grey eyes stared at him uncertainly, and seemed to be considering. Finally, in a near whisper that caused a strange flutter in the artist's chest, Kurusu answered, "I guess that doesn't matter much to me. But, while I, uh....while I undress. Would you keep talking to me?"_

_(( ....talking? He wants--? ))_

_Flustered, Yusuke did not answer for a moment. But as the sound of the clock in the hall entered his awareness, ticking down the time they had left together, he coughed, and replied, "Yes, of course. Do you have a preferred topic, or--??"_

_This was **not** something he had anticipated. Pastries and coffee would surely have been easier, despite his meager funds and growling gut. But, perhaps, he shouldn't be surprised that the model he chose would not be so easily satisfied._

_Kurusu toyed idly with the button of one wrist. "I don't care. Just something you're interested in. I like hearing you talk. It's...distracting."_

_Yusuke flushed. "I...I see. Very well, then."_

_He closed his eyes, and began a monologue on various art styles, recalling a lecture he'd been given at Kosei the previous day. "While many think of impressionist art as being simply blurry, or bland, the art of Renoir was characterized by the usage of vivid color, bringing a pleasing sense of joy and life to his landscapes and portraits. While he--"_

_Yusuke opened his eyes reflexively to see if his speech was having any effect, and spied his model's progress instead. A black blazer hung on the back of a nearby chair, and now deft fingers were working at the knot of a tie. Kurusu seemed to spot his gaze from the corner of his eye, and those same fingers stumbled and stilled. Yusuke looked down at his own feet, strangely embarrassed._

_His throat was dry, and cracked as he began again. "After the Impressionists came the Post-Impressionists, a movement which includes the well-known Van Gogh. This movement rejected the insistence on realism in color that the Impressionists had dedicated themselves to. While Post-Impressionist works still greatly embraced the use of vivid color, it was often used in an unreal and distorted manner, leading to--"_

_A small thud caused his eyes to dart upward again. Kurusu had stumbled while removing his socks, and caught himself one-handed on the wall. His vest had joined the blazer, folded neatly and set atop the chair, and his suspenders dangled from his waist._

_For a moment, Yusuke thought he saw a tremor in the boy's hands, but decided that it must have been from being caught off-balance. Surely....surely if he had changed his mind, Kurusu would speak up.  Yes, of course he would._

_He plowed onward, reciting what was, to him, a familiar and comforting litany.  Onward and onward, willing himself to cease stuttering as he heard more pieces of formal clothing flutter to the ground._

_"Rejecting the necessity of harmony in art and in thought, the anarchic Neo-impressionists of the same decade worked in contrasts, to--"_

_A breath hitched, startling him out of speech once more. As Yusuke looked up to regard his model, this time he couldn't deny what he saw._

_Kurusu was shirtless, and beginning to work at the buttons of his suit-pants, with clearly trembling hands. The boy's eyes were distant and vague, the aura of power and calm purpose he had previously exuded dashed against the rocks of anxiety. Yusuke's gut twisted with guilt._

_(( What am I doing?! ))_

_He'd seen the signs, all along, that his model wasn't fully comfortable with this. His reaction at the end of his previous modeling session. His need for reassurances, leading up to this. His frowns, the barely-stifled tremor of a hand. But Yusuke had deliberately ignored it, choosing to push as far as his model was willing to endure, out of his own sense of urgency and need._

_As he stared, Kurusu whispered, in a small voice, fingers clasped painfully tight on the button,"Please....keep talking. I--I need you to--if I'm going to do this, I--"_

_(( This isn't right. This isn't how I wanted to go about this. I...I never would have rushed him into this, or ignored his discomfort, if I wasn't pressing forward for a deadline imposed by--ahh, what an unacceptable excuse! ))_

_Slowly, Yusuke was overcome with resolve. It would anger his sensei. He wasn't certain of what would become of him. But he wouldn't push his model this way. He wouldn't push aside his own ideals, for the sake of meeting a deadline._

_"I'm sorry."_

_"H...huh?!" The boy's eyes were wide with what Yusuke worried was genuine fear._

_(( How did I let it get this far? Was I wilfully blind? ))_

_Determined to put an end to it, Yusuke reached out to grasp Kurusu's shoulder reassuringly. He'd barely made contact, when--_

**_"DON'T TOUCH ME!"_ **

_Yusuke recoiled instantly, but the damage had apparently already been done. Kurusu unraveled in an instant, and Yusuke was forced to realize that his discomfort had run far deeper than he had realized. Blind panic filled the dark-haired boy's wide eyes as he backed away, shaking._

_"I--I'm sorry, my apologies!"_

_Arms crossed rigidly to hide a bare chest as Kurusu edged toward the door, the very picture of misery. "I--you can't--I can't--I--I--I'm sorry, just please don't try to grab me again."_

_Yusuke took in with dismay and guilt the other's suddenly ashen complexion, the tears breaking through the heavy lashline of now crumpled eyes._

_Instinctively, he moved forward, hand outstretched like one would try to calm a wounded animal, but the movement only seemed to startle the distressed boy. In an instant, he darted through the open door and fled down the hall._

_Yusuke pursued him, stomach churning with a combination of hunger and despair._

_(( What have I done? I didn't mean to-- ))_

_He rounded a corner, and realized, dismayed, that Kurusu was headed to an area of the atelier that had long been deemed completely off limits._

_"Please, wait!"_

_Kurusu stood at the end of the hall, neck craned into the shadow of what Yusuke knew to be the oddly-painted door to Madarame's defunct storage area. Was he...talking? Yusuke drew nearer, trying to hear, but the other boy's eyes instantly snapped to his own, and his body stiffened, chest heaving as he panted like cornered prey._

_Yusuke was heartbroken._

_(( I did this. I ruined my own hope, but even worse, somehow, I've wounded him, and I'm not even sure how-- ))_

_As he watched, Kurusu seemed to regard him warily, while deliberately calming himself. His breathing slowed, his posture relaxed, and a hand raised to his eyes, wiping away a stray tear._

_Shakily, he muttered, "I'm sorry. I truly thought I...that I could....but I'm an embarrassment, of course." His bare shoulders slumped dejectedly, pale in the gloomy hallway._

**_"No!"_ **

_Kurusu startled at Yusuke's impassioned exclamation, and he forced his voice to calm, backing away slightly._

_"Please, Kurusu-kun, don't blame yourself. This....this whole thing is entirely my own fault. In retrospect, I could see the signs of your discomfort all along."_

_Tears stung the corners of his eyes.  Disgusted with himself, he continued, fists clenched at his sides. "I was so single minded that I allowed myself to be blinded to your distress. I, I had to complete a piece, or risk--but it is no excuse. Please, accept my deepest apologies."_

_Yusuke looked up at the boy he'd seen such artistic promise in, and, in a moment, saw some small redemption, though he hadn't dared to hope for it. A small smile twisted one corner of Kurusu's lips, as he whispered, "I know. You're tied up in something awful too, aren't you?"_

_(( **What** \--!? What does he--?! ))_

_He couldn't mean.....? Yusuke felt dizzy, both from mental whiplash and the exertion of having chased Kurusu through several winding corridors. He opened his mouth to ask just what he meant, but was interrupted by--_

**_((CLICK))_ **

_" **Yusuke**! My boy, where have you gotten to?"_

_(( **Sensei!** But he can't see us **here**! Not by this door, of all places!  And Kurusu-kun, in this state of undress-- ))_

_Heart wild with sudden panic, Yusuke turned to implore the other boy, "Please, I can't explain, but we cannot be here in this corridor! Come away with me, quickly!"_

_But Kurusu remained stiffly planted in the shadow of the doorway, eyes darting repeatedly into the darkness like he was waiting--waiting for what??_

_Footsteps padded closer as Madarame stalked closer in his search for his student. "YUSUKE?"  A terrified, sickened cold flooded through Yusuke's body as he detected a hint of anger in his mentor's voice._

_(( I was supposed to be working, and instead, he'll find me--! ))_

_Anxiety reaching a crescendo, Yusuke pleaded, " **Please** , Kurusu-kun!"_

_But it was too late. A body rounded a corner, an indignant mouth opened to admonish a boy caught like a deer in the headlights. From beyond Kurusu came a sudden, astonishing ((CLICK!)) and the clatter of a lock dropping to the ground to roll to Yusuke's feet._

_To the artist's shock his model darted forward and, with a strength belying his lithe frame, took hold of Yusuke's arm, dragging him into the darkness._

 


	21. You Can Be Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I started writing this chapter, and finished the beginning and the ending way before the middle. In the end, it was so long that I've decided to split what I wrote into two chapters! 
> 
> So, the next chapter should be up shortly, after I polish it up a bit. Here's Yusuke's introduction to the Metaverse :)

  
Akira was sickened by the selfish redundancy of Madarame's ultimate betrayal. Successfully breaking through the mysterious golden door, he and Yusuke had been confronted by dozens of counterfeit copies of the artist's maiden masterpiece, the Sayuri.

Madarame had donned his humble, heartbroken face for Yusuke, claiming that the counterfeits were made, through personal distress, to pay for his students' futures. But, as the curtain literally fell from a prominent easel, and the true Sayuri was revealed, not stolen at all--

"That is also a copy, Yusuke! Of course, I--"

" **No**! Sensei, you cannot deny this. Not to me. I know the Sayuri as well as I know my own heart." Yusuke reached out a hand in disbelief, tracing the brushstrokes of the gentle woman's face with a single thin finger, his face ghostly pale. Bitterly, he added, "Better than that, even."

There was a tremor in the young artist's voice, yes, but also an anger, and an anguish. Akira couldn't begin to understand what the discovery of this painting meant, but....

_How much of his life has been built on the foundation of a lie?_

"I won't stand for these accusations!"

_That's not surprising._

Madarame inelegantly withdrew an ancient-looking flip phone from the folds of his pants, opened it with a flick of his wrist, and declared, "If this is the way it is, I have no choice. I'll be contacting my private security company and reporting the both of you as trespassers."

_Okay, **that** is a surprise. Is he really--we need to get the hell out of here! We--I--we can't be caught like this!_

"The _both_ of us?!" Akira's couldn't help but pity Yusuke, as a look of true horror dawned on his face. For his own part, Akira felt a chilling wash of guilt. He shivered, bare shoulders prickling with gooseflesh, as he edged toward the other panicked boy.

_We were trying to help him, but did I just make Kitagawa-kun homeless?!_

"Kitagawa-kun, we need to leave."

"But this....but this is my _home_! Sensei, please!" An arm flailed out in passion, eyes widened. The boy wavered in his place, seeming barely balanced.

Madarame's reply to his ward was cruelly calm. He turned up his nose, looking away from the boy as if he was beneath him. "Not anymore. Yusuke, you know well what happens to students who can no longer comply with my program's stringent requirements. With this little....stunt, you now quite clearly fall into that category. Leave."

Yusuke's knees buckled, as he gripped a handful of his own blue hair, hyperventilating. "I--I--but--where--? I--sensei, please--! _Please_ \--!" But Japan's 'great artist' ignored him, exiting the store room to speak privately into his cellphone.

_He's really calling!! We need to--ah, crap!_

Yusuke listed to one side, and, in nearly falling, had smacked the corner of his head on a folded easel. He seemed unaware of the blow. Though his eyes filled with tears, they were still tracking the movement of his now-former guardian down the hall.

_Is he going to pass out?!  Damn it. I--I--I still don't want to be touched, but he needs help. I think I can make myself--_

Akira extended a still-tremulous arm to the young artist, tucking it around his back. He'd expected to be strained from the boy's weight, but found that the taller boy was disturbingly light. As Yusuke collapsed into him, Akira could feel the shuddering of his bones through his paper-thin uniform blouse.

_Shit! Shit! How are we going to make it out of here in time?!_

Akira glanced around, eyes finally settling on Morgana, who was lingering near the door, blue eyes wide and reflective in the dim room.

"Morgana! Please, can you go ahead of me and get the door?"

"On it!" A white tipped tail fled the room, disappearing down the hall, as Akira supported Yusuke, who seemed to be in a near-faint.

As they stumbled down the hall, the blue-haired boy wheezed, "Was....was that.....a cat?"

"No."

A shuddering cough, between short, painful-sounding breaths. "N--no?! But, I--"

Akira simply shook his head, fluffy hair flying into his eyes. "No. When we get out of here, maybe we can have a talk about stranger things that can "obscure" a person's "true spirit." He laughed, a strange, low, breathless laugh.

_I've got....to get him out.....to finish this....._

_But all I really want to do is go home and cry. I....this whole modeling thing was fucking horrible. I thought I could do it, but....but I should have known better._

_I thought I could run this mission better too, and now--_

His eyes flickered up to the sharp chin and trembling lips of the boy leaning over his naked shoulder, chest shuddering with the shallowest of breaths.

_Not only did I absolutely disappoint this weird guy, now I've lost him his home and his mentor. Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do with him now?!_

As they broke through the gloom of the atelier into the blinding sunlight of afternoon, Akira felt something wet and cold trickle down his shoulder. A sniffle. A--aghh! His own knees buckled, as Yusuke slumped further.

_He's crying._

_Did we...did we ruin his life?_

In the distance, Akira heard sirens, and his heart filled with dread. They couldn't be caught here. Not now, not like this. Another run-in with the police, and his own life--

"Morgana! Are you ready?!" His furry companion leapt onto the step by his feet and nodded sharply. "I'm sorry, Yusuke, but we have to go, _now_."

Despondent, the boy replied dully, "Go? Go where? With the loss of my mentor, I...I have nowhere. I have nowhere."

The sirens drew closer, undeniably heading to their location. Akira didn't have time! He dug, one-handed, into Ryuji's pants pocket, drawing out his phone and fumbling to open the Metanav.

"I'm sorry, I can't explain, and this is going to be fucking awful, but brace yourself, okay?!"

A panicked Morgana cried out, "You're bringing him _in?!_ " as the world shifted.

_《* &:÷beg@inning--!navi>gation)]•○》_

The three escapees thudded into a pile into the grass outside of Madarame's garish golden museum. Akira felt the comforting weight of his thieving attire envelop his body, and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

_That....that helps._

But his relief was short lived, as an awful, heartbreaking sob reached his ears. Rolling over onto his side, he realized that Yusuke was curled into a ball on the ground, crying hysterically. The emotion was shocking, coming from the usually coldly composed boy. Morgana stood over the artist, looking helpless.

"This guy....Joker, this was a terrible time to bring him here." Morgana didn't seem to be admonishing him, just stating a solemn fact. Still, Akira's gut churned with guilt.

"I...I know. But I couldn't think to do anything else. And we can't leave Skull and Panther on their own for much longer." His reasoning made logical sense, but as he watched the tears flooding from Kitagawa's red-rimmed eyes, heard him crying out into the dirt through weak, pitiful gasps, Akira wished more than anything that he'd had another option.

Akira sat up, and awkwardly scooted over to sit beside the heartbroken boy. For a moment, he just sat there, hoping that merely being present was helpful. Quietly, he watched a water feature outside the palace spit glimmering water dramatically into the air, leaning back to rest on gloved hands. As minutes passed, Yusuke's sobs quieted, but didn't cease.

_I have to say something, don't I? But what can I say?_

A voice stirred within him, one he had only recently gained.

_~ You can't expect to make sense of this for him. But you can be kind._

_Makami....okay._

"Yusuke, I'm sorry. This has to be horrible for you. I know...." he paused, choosing his words. "I can't know exactly what this means to you, but I can say, I've been through something somewhat similar, and I....I won't abandon you to figure this out on your own. I'll help you find a way forward. We're....we're all here fighting for you, after all. It's why we're here, in this place."

Akira couldn't be sure if his words were having the effect he was hoping for, but they seemed, at least, to be reaching Yusuke. His panting had slowed, and his body had grown less rigid, relaxing slightly into the damp earth.

"I won't ask you to fight too, or to understand. But, I can't leave you here. There's danger in simply being still, too, in a place like this. I don't expect you to be okay--not in this moment, probably not for quite a while--but I need you to find what strength you can and come with me, so I can get to work."

Something about the word 'work' seemed to trigger a sort of stillness in the boy crumpled on the ground. He took another shuddering breath, and then, finally, spoke, lips pressed limply into the dirt. "...work? I....I don't understand."

"I know."

Yusuke rolled onto his back, finally opening his eyes. Then, in shock, he recoiled, eyes dancing wildly as he took in his surroundings, and the person speaking to him.

_Shit, did he just now notice?!_

Wide-eyed, Yusuke braced a hand on the ground and pushed himself up to sit. "You....your clothes. It's...you are Akira Kurusu, aren't you?"

Akira nodded, removing his mask to reveal his face. Yusuke's dark eyes bored into his own, searching.

Swallowing hard, Yusuke's gaze trailed across his surroundings from his seat on the lawn. Slowly, his eyes took in the opulent golden building. The crowds of eerie, same-faced museum patrons. Leaves, blown by not-quite-right wind, shuddering unnaturally across black asphalt.

Dark eyes turned to Akira, piecing together yet another transformation. He frowned, reaching out to pick at the tail of Akira's long black coat. "Was I....was I unconscious? Where have you brought me? How much time has passed, that you were able to--"

Morgana spoke up, and Akira cringed as Yusuke startled further at the unfamiliar voice and its shocking owner. "We've only been here a few minutes! And in a way, we haven't left that shack at all. This is Madarame's cognition--the way his distorted heart views that creepy place."

Yusuke seemed to blank out for a moment, trying to take it all in. Attempting to be helpful, Akira added, "It's true. We've entered another world. I'm sorry, I couldn't see any way around bringing you along with me." As the boy still stared, dumbstruck, at the feline creature before him, Akira continued, "Er, this is Morgana. You've met."

Bowing, Morgana agreed, "A pleasure," then switched moods to whine to Akira, "But we really need to get going!"

Slowly, Yusuke's lips moved. "Not.....not a cat. Not a cat. I see now. I think. I...." His eyes widened as he reached a hand out to the furry thief. "Fascinating.....May I touch you?!"

His fingertips had nearly reached Morgana's tail when the thief danced away, scowling. "Hey, hands off! You really need to learn about personal boundaries, you know that?"

_He's not wrong._

Yusuke grimaced, withdrawing the hand to let it lay limply in his lap. "I....may have had that mentioned to me in the past, yes."

Akira stood, then knelt before the other boy, extending a red-gloved palm. "Can you stand? I hate to force this, but we have to leave, before the shadows catch on to our presence."

"S....shadows?" Yusuke shook his head, then raised a hand to wipe the last of the wetness from his jawline. "Nevermind. I genuinely don't think I can handle any more information at the moment. Yes, I think I can stand."

He took Akira's hand, and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. His shakiness did not inspire Akira with confidence.

_But at least he's up. It'll have to do. We can't leave Ann and Ryuji any longer._

"Okay. Follow me, and I'll explain what I can along the way."

The blue-haired boy nodded, chewing a lip. "Very well."

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Akira held Yusuke back with an outstretched arm, drawing a finger to his lips to indicate a need for immediate silence. They waited, hearts pounding, for a particularly brutal-looking shadow guard to round a corner of the gallery before relaxing.

_I don't want to fight with someone who is essentially defenseless thrown into the fray. Once we catch up with Ann and Ryuji, that'll be a different story, but for now...._

Akira nodded to his companions, and waved at Yusuke to motion him further into the museum. Yusuke followed easily enough, but was too distracted to truly be stealthy, head swiveling to take in row upon row of student portraits.

Under his breath, Akira murmured, "You have a portrait here too, you know. We'll pass by it, on the way to the others."

"Others--let me guess, your usual companions, yes?"

"That's right."

"What a surprise," Yusuke added, dryly.

 _Glad to see he's recovered enough for mild snark_.

"A portrait of me....I....I want to see it, but I'm not entirely sure that's wise, to be honest."

Akira shrugged. "It's up to you. I won't push it either way."

He reached a hand out to the other boy, in the hope that he'd let him guide him through the rest of the Palace to the golden doors. Yusuke hesitated, then intertwined his fingers with his own.

_Just to be safe._

"Let's go."

In the end, they carefully skirted Yusuke's portrait, the artist's eyes averted for once, focused only on his own outstretched hand. Akira winced at the boy's tightening, icy grip as he caught the edge of the painting in his own peripheral vision. But he said nothing. He understood.

Silently, the trio crept through dark halls. Akira forced his mind to remain on the task ahead, not allowing himself to consider the feeling of the hand gripped in his own.

_We'll make it through this, and then I'll get him the hell out of here._

"They're just up ahead, Yusuke. See, I--ah, no!!"

They broke through the double doors, into a grossly glimmering room, only to discover Ann and Ryuji, surrounded by shadow guards, dwarfed by a towering golden statue of children crushed beneath the one they were lifting....and, glowering, the man himself--

"Madarame-sensei?! What is this?!" Yusuke released Akira's hand and lurched forward, only to freeze halfway and stare in horror at what seemed to be a sick, painted caricature of his lifelong mentor.

The man before him twitched a corner of his lipsticked mouth. "Sensei? I think not. Didn't I make myself clear on that matter?"

Yusuke flinched, pained. "Yes. Yes, but....what is this? What is the meaning of this terrible, gilded cage? Can this truly have been born from your heart? This place...it seems like a graveyard for true creativity."

"Hah! You may feel that way. And yes, boy, many dreams have died to build the glimmering walls of this place. But is it truly death?"  Madarame spun in a strange sweeping dance to gesture around the disorientingly glittering room. 

"Think of it instead as a....conglomeration. The lives and hopes of my students, gifted to me in return for my support, have come together, consolidated into the form of _my own_ dream.  You were happy to share it, were you not?"

"All of us. Everyone that I grew up with. Every student who slept beside me....their dreams were worth more than that! How can you say this?!" Yusuke shuddered, swaying on his feet, and Akira reflexively reached out to him. The artist was out of reach, but....

_Can he handle this, in his state?! I'm an idiot. Of course I should have expected to encounter--_

"Hmph. And just how did you expect the world to see that worth? No one in this world will care about the disconnected "art" of a few children, regardless of their supposed passion. But add **my** name, **my** brand, and that same work is lauded as a masterwork! An inspiration! Surely you agree that it is better that way, than for those paintings to languish, having never seen the light of day."

"I...." Yusuke's shoulders collapsed, knees buckling. "I know, that is what we were told, always. And I agreed. I had to agree. But....this place--" Palm raised, he straightened suddenly, and spun to gesture wildly at the room surrounding him. The gilded wallpaper, the sweeping, gaudy staircase. The blank, glinting eyes of the golden children trapped forever beneath Madarame like Atlas supporting the world. "This place isn't a monument to art, or to their sacrifices. It is a monument to _you!_ "

His eyes took on a manic quality, as he faced his former teacher and demanded, once again, "So, I ask you, what is the meaning of this garish atrocity?!"

Madarame's eyes narrowed angrily. "So, you won't accept this 'Truth' any longer, is that it? You think you know everything, do you?"

He smirked, then, seeming to realise the joy he could gain in cruelty in that moment. "Very well, then. Yes, Yusuke. Did you really think that someone as greatly held up by society as myself would lower myself to residing only in that squalid, disgusting shack?"

Yusuke's eyes filled with horror, and Akira's heart dropped in empathy. He could see the boy's world crumble further as he watched.

"A place like that is all well and good for a naive child like yourself, but I--I deserve more! Yes, my reward, for dealing with dozens of needy brats like yourself--of course I have a lavish, true home. Under the name of a mistress, clearly. That is the true purpose of art, you ridiculous child. You create it, I curate it, I brand it, I sell it to the world, and I reap the rewards!" Akira sickened as Madarame raised his arms in magnanimous self-congratulation.

Before him, Ryuji spat, "This is twisted."

Ann nodded. "There's nothing 'true' about this creep. His entire face to the world is a terrible, selfish lie!"

"A lie...." Yusuke's voice shuddered. "No."

_What does he mean?_

Hair shadowing his face, Yusuke's fists were clenched by his sides, nails digging into skin so pale it was nearly blue. Slowly, he ground the words out. "I....I was the one lying. To myself, to the world, and all on your behalf. I...I can't--" His fists released as he raised hands to claw at his own hair. His eyes opened, wide and wild, as he fell to his knees, shouting, "But never again! I won't be blind to the truth of this world. I won't be a naive, dependent child. I--"

Slim fingers fell to scratch at a marble floor, his reflection in the polished stone a thin caricature of his true self. Akira hissed as a nail snapped under pressure, leaving a trail of blood in the shadow of the great golden statue. "I'll tear myself apart; before I ever create art in your name again. My eyes....." In a flash of blue light, a mask in the shape of a fox's upper face appeared over Yusuke's cheeks, and Akira understood. ".....are open!"

As a bloody hand raised to tug at a smooth curve of ceramic, leaving a red slash on the artist's cheekbone, Akira found himself reminded of another day, a different, charcoal streak.

_He's free to create **himself** , now._

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
Reentering the real world, Akira shivered as the evening wind scraped against his bare skin.

_Shit. I almost forgot. How am I supposed to get home like this?!_

In their haste to escape the atelier before Madarame's private security descended, Akira had totally abandoned the clothing he'd removed in the studio. Bare toes dug into the grass, freezing from contact with damp earth.

_This fucking sucks._

"Uhhh _dude_ , where is your shirt? I mean, where's **MY** shirt?! Did you leave it in there?! Ma is gonna kill me!" Ryuji flailed, staring at Akira with wide, slightly horrified eyes. "Man, were you really gettin' **nude** for him?!"

Flustered, Akira sputtered, "What?! Ryuji, I'm not the one who came up with that plan. And--and--disregarding that, so what if I was! That--that doesn't say anything about me!"

From the sidelines, Yusuke added in an astonished voice, "Well, of course it doesn't. Why would it?"

Vindicated, Akira said, " _Thank you_ ," only to be irritated all over again when Ryuji grumbled, "Well, of course _Yusuke_ doesn't think it's weird."

Akira clenched a fist, squaring his shoulders to argue, when Ann jumped into the fray, hands held out to motion for peace. "Guys, do you _actually_ want to have this argument? Or are you just wrecked and cranky from the Palace?"

_.......why not both?_

But he deflated, admitting to himself that he really didn't feel like fighting right now.

Ryuji grumbled, "No, you're right. Sorry, Ann. Sorry, guys."

"Whatever, it's fine."

Cheerily, Ann went on, "Anyway, wow! Uhh....awkward of me to say, I know, but honestly Akira, no wonder he wanted you to model for him. Who knew you were freaking ripped?? I should drag you to a shoot with me sometime!"

Akira grimaced miserably at her attempted compliment. He was way too tired to try to parse out just how many ways that made him uncomfortable.

_Ughh Ann you went from 'helpful' to 'making matters ten times worse' in a single breath. Honestly, that takes talent._

"N....no Ann, I'm good."

"Haha, and how did I know you'd say that? I bet you don't even take selfies! It's sort of tragic, really...."

Akira ground his teeth, agitated. Then, he took a breath, remembering that he was among friends and, idiots or not, they cared, and would listen.  "Okay, if all of my friends could stop talking about me, that would be **really great**."

"Oh. Right, sorry Akira."  Ann looked a bit abashed.

"It's fine.  Anyway....." He raised a single naked foot for their appraisal. "How am I supposed to get on the train like this?"

Ann waved her cellphone in the air. "Just this once, we should probably call a cab."

_Great._

Akira winced.

_There goes our budget. But there's nothing to be done about it._

"Okay. Ann, will you?"

"Sure thing."

Yusuke sidled beside him, and murmured, "If I may ask, a cab to _where_? I have nowhere to go."

_I don't really know how this is going to go. And I'm 90% sure that I won't like it. But he's coming to Le Blanc with me. Somehow, we'll make it work.  Hopefully Sakura-san likes strays as much as I've begun to suspect that he does._

Akira shivered, chafing his arms for heat. "You do now. I'm taking you to Cafe Le Blanc, in Yongen. I live in the attic above it, and there's some spare space in the rear, for what it's worth. I won't leave a teammate alone in the cold. We'll figure this out, somehow."

The artist's eyes trailed sadly over the metal shell of his own childhood home, before he closed his eyes, heavily and decisively.

"I accept."


	22. For Art!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time once again for some fluff 
> 
> Yusuke is getting settled into Le Blanc ~
> 
> Poor coffee dad, lmao.

Sojiro Sakura, hands on his hips, looked utterly bewildered at the gaggle of teens that had stormed his cafe. One, moreso than the others. "Akira, where the hell is your shirt? And your shoes?!"

"I, um. Lost them."

" **Lost** them."

"For.......art?" Akira added, weakly.

Ann piped up, "For art!"

In unison now, with even Morgana's meow joining the fray, they all called out, "For art!", fists raised, _really_ leaning into it.

Yusuke awkwardly raised a hand along with them. "For art?" His wide, innocent eyes darted to each of them, as if he was asking, _'Is this the kind of thing we do, now?'_

Akira felt himself die a little inside.

_No, Yusuke, this isn't what we do.  I, uh, hope._

"You know what? I've just decided that I don't want to know. How about you take your half-naked ass upstairs, put some clothes on, and we never mention this again?"

"Uhh. Sounds good, Sakura-san." Gesturing to the others, Akira hurried up the stairs. Behind him, he heard Ann call cheerily to his guardian, "Actually, Sakura-San, could I speak with you for a minute? Please~!"

_Wow, she's really turning on the charm. Hope it works._

While Ann sugared up Sojiro downstairs, miraculously talking him into accepting yet _another_ wayward teenager, Ryuji helped a mercifully re-clothed Akira and Yusuke rearrange furniture, dragging the saggy couch into the rear of the attic.

Yusuke was not terribly helpful, Akira noted, as the boy leaned against a far wall, his eyes framed by a square made of his own battered and bandaged fingers. "This space will meet my needs adequately. Although the lack of natural sunlight is distressing......"

_Then again, he's got to be exhausted. Everyone has been, after awakening to their Persona. So, this once, he gets a pass._

Akira chuckled, hoisting the corner of a dusty folding table to help Ryuji drag it into a corner. "Well, that can't be helped. It _is_ an attic, after all."

Yusuke smiled wryly, lowering his hands to walk across the room and settle, limply, onto the re-homed couch. "Indeed." Still, he didn't seem unhappy. If anything, while exhaustion was the dominant feeling emanating from the boy, he still seemed....content.

_At least, I think so. He's way too hard to read._

Wiping sweat from his brow, Akira said, "There's a little junk shop down the street where I'm sure we can find some more furniture, if you're interested. It won't be anything fancy, but..." He looked at Yusuke, uncertain.

Folding lanky legs to curl up on his creaking temporary bed, Yusuke gave him a simple, shy nod that spoke volumes. "It'll be enough."

"Hey, can I freshen this up downstairs? The water in here is from days ago, and I'm dyin' from draggin' shit around." Ryuji held out a water bottle he'd pulled from his gym bag.

"Yeah, of course. Sakura-san won't mind. Check to see how Ann's doing while you're down there, will you?"

"Sure thing, man." Before leaving, Ryuji unscrewed the cap of the bottle and dumped the dregs into the parched soil of Akira's still-neglected houseplant.

Akira's lips twitched, amused. "There's no point to that, you know. It's dead."

"Nah, it's not dead. See, there's some green here on the little guy." Ryuji gestured to a mossy-looking patch on a single lower leaf.

Akira squinted. He was pretty sure that was actually mold, but didn't have the heart to break it to him. "Hmm, I guess so. Well, thanks."

"Of course!" Ryuji called from the stairs. "You should really take better care of it!"

_Dote on a dead plant. I'll get right on that._

He eyed the plant's brown, crispy leaves, and sighed.

_I guess I could buy it some fertilizer. Then I can at least say that I tried._

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

_[[  As Ryuji walked down the stairs, his ears tuned into Ann's continued wheedling, which had apparently taken an interesting, somewhat alarming turn._

_Smiling **way** too widely, Ann asked cheerfully, "I mean what are the chances that they're **both** gay, really...? Haaaaa."_

_(( Huh, what? Shit, I didn't think about that. ))_  
_(( And wait, did I miss a memo on Akira being definitely, for-sure, 100% gay?? ))_

_As Ryuji stood, flustered, at the foot of the stairs, Sakura answered Ann, sounding entirely unimpressed. "Didn't you say this kid was an artist?"_

_Indignantly, Ann admonished a man who was likely well more than twice her age. "Sakura-san, that is an unfair stereotype! I'm **surprised** at you! Not all artists are gay!"_

_Astonishingly, that seemed to **actually work**. Sakura backpedaled. "Uh. I. Hoo boy. Well." He picked nervously at his goatee, then sputtered, "But--hey, the kid came home half-naked! 'For art,' you all said!"_

_Slyly, Ann answered, "He came home with **all of us.** How do you know it wasn't **me** who got him half-naked for art?"_

_"Uh. **Did** you?"_

_She shrugged. "The world may never know."_

_Ryuji looked on in amazement as they stared each other down._

_(( Holy hell, Ann. ))_  
_(( How can she say that shit with a straight face?! ))_

_......_

_His face in his hand, finally, Sakura groaned, "Shit. Does he **really** need a place to stay?"_

_(( It friggin **worked**?! ))_

_Firmly, Ann insisted, "Yes."_

_"F--fine. FINE. It's fine. Just.....get him settled in before I change my mind. I already have one freeloader. What's another?"_

_"Excellent! Thanks **so** much, Sakura-san!" Ann rose, her mission complete. As she did so, Ryuji realized that he was still frozen, awkwardly watching them. He tried to look like he'd just finished his walk down the stairs, as her eyes met his._

_"Oh, hey, Ann. Just down here to fill this up." He waved the water bottle in the air, plausibly. "So, you got him to agree, huh? Why am I not shocked that you know how to charm old guys?"_

_Ann's lip curled irritably, and she raised a hand to smack Ryuji's shoulder. "Oh, shut **up** , you idiot!"_

_"Ow!! What, Ann, where was the lie, huh?!"_

_"Anyway, **jerk** , I'm heading upstairs. But hey, first...." She eyed him contemplatively, mood settling. "What do you think of Akira's room?"_

_"His room?" Ryuji grimaced, thinking about his new best friend spending every day in that grody place. "Well, it isn't much of a room, for starters. There was basically nothin' up there to begin with, and now we've still got nothin', but now it's split between **two** guys."_

_(( Two guys.... ))_

_Awkwardly, Ryuji tried to be smooth and casual as he finally spoke his mind._

_(( Might as well. Man, I suck ass at keeping shit to myself, anyway. ))_

_"Speaking of two guys, you don't think it's weird for Akira to have another guy staying with him?"_

_Innocently, Ann replied, "Huh?! Why would it be?"_

_(( Dammit Ann, don't play dumb! ))_

_Reddening, Ryuji sputtered, "Well, 'cuz, uh--y'know......friggin' A, Ann!"_

_Finally, Ann couldn't bring herself to feign obliviousness any longer, and burst out laughing at his stuttering. "Oh--my--ohmigod, that was kind of hilarious. You are **so** awkward." She wiped her eyes mirthful, then took a breath and answered him genuinely. "Really, though, you know Akira. He can handle himself. I'm sure he wouldn't agree to something he wasn't comfortable with."_

_Darkly, Ryuji doubted that._

_(( Has she **met** Akira? Sometimes I feel like that's **all** he does. ))_

_"I guess."_

_"Anyway, about his room. So you agree, we've got to do something about it."_

_"Do something? Like what?"_

_"A while back, he agreed that he'd let me take him shopping for some stuff for his room. You want to, uh, help me enforce that?"_

_Finally be able to actually do something to pay Akira back for everything he's done?_

_(( Hell yeah! ))_

_"I'm shit at shopping, but yeah, I can help twist his arm if it comes to that."_

_"Great! Maybe after we finish with, uh..." Ann leaned in and whispered, as if that was **less** likely to draw Sojiro's attention. "The Palace?"_

_Ryuji nodded. "Sure thing, Ann. Anyway, I'll join you up there in a second, though there really isn't much left to do except say 'bye' at this point."_

_As she turned to hurry up the stairs and give the rest of the thieves the good news, Ryuji walked contemplatively to the nearest sink._

_(( Whatever we can do to make that guy happy....I'll do it. ))_

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

After Ann and Ryuji left for the evening, Yusuke and Akira sat together at the counter downstairs for dinner.

Yusuke frowned sadly. "I....perhaps I should have stayed upstairs. Circumstances as they are, I'm afraid that I cannot pay for a meal."

Akira shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I can cover you."

From further down the counter, an irritable Sojiro insisted, "Nobody's covering anybody, you idiots. If you're staying here, you're fed. Don't worry, I'll be sure to find some work for you around here to make it worth my while."

"Is....is that so?!"

Akira smirked. "Yeah, he'll definitely put you to work. Prepare yourself. Hope you like coffee!"

Sakura leaned on the counter, eyeing his newest ward. "So, what'll you have? I've got curry, curry with rice, and curry with rice and coffee."

Still hesitant, Yusuke gave in, if only slightly. "Just some rice, please, then."

Sakura frowned. "Is that all?" A nod from a blue-haired boy who wouldn't quite meet his eyes. "Some rice, then. Coming right up." He turned away to head into the kitchen and prepare their plates, grumbling indistinctly.

"That isn't much of a dinner," Akira murmured, concerned. He hadn't forgotten how bony his new friend had felt, too light for someone of his height.

_I'm no heavyweight, sure, but this guy...is there something wrong here?_

Yusuke winced visibly. "Ahh. After the....excitement of the day...I don't think my stomach can handle anything rich."

_Hmm...I guess that's plausible, but..._

"If you're sure..." Akira dropped it for now, though he felt a little guilty sitting down for his own meal while watching his new friend pick, birdlike, at a plain bowl of rice. Judging from Sakura's expression as he eyed them from the rear of the cafe, he wasn't alone in his worry.

These thoughts were interrupted when Yusuke's phone buzzed repeatedly, making both of the jittery teens jump.

"It must have just regained service." He tapped on the screen, and immediately paled. "Ah."

"What is it?"

Face grey, he simply handed his phone to Akira. Several texts were displayed on the screen.

      **Madarame-sensei** : Yusuke, I demand that you answer your phone.

      **Madarame-sensei** : This is entirely unacceptable.

      **Madarame-sensei:** Very well, I'll say it here.

      **Madarame-sensei** : I may have been overly hasty, Yusuke. I am willing to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy for my program.

      **Madarame-sensei** : If you are still able to complete your painting, for the study we have planned, I will put thought into reconsidering.

      **Madarame-sensei:** However, if you choose childishness and refuse, I will be forced to contact Kosei to have your scholarship revoked. You received it with my recommendation, and I cannot attach my name to one who would squander his talents.

      **Madarame-sensei:** Immediately inform me of your decision when you receive these messages.

  
Yusuke looked exhausted. His eyes were heavy, deep blue circles beneath them; his lips cracked as they twisted uncertainly. "So. Madarame-sensei will take me back, if I...." He squeezed his eyes closed miserably. "Without him, I have nothing. He's been the foundation my entire life was built upon. And, even if I would refuse his tutelage going forward, still, his home is _my_ home. If I don't return, I'll own nothing but the clothes on my back. And, my scholarship..."

He picked at a stray string on the cuff of his sleeve, bony fingers pinching viciously hard at the offending strand of cotton. One more hard pinch and it snapped, and for a moment he just sat there, staring at string in his bandaged hands, seeming entirely at a loss. Finally, he blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and dropped it to return to his food.

Miserably, Yusuke pushed half-uneaten rice around his plate with his chopsticks, continuing. "But....how can I go back to that man, now that I have finally opened my eyes?"

Akira stared up at the ceiling, watching a single industrial fan spin, around and around. "If you don't want to set another foot in that shack, I don't blame you whatsoever. And if that means abandoning your things, well....I don't have much, but what I do have, you are welcome to. Even so...."

He took a breath, then turned in his chair to face Yusuke, who was regarding him with a disarming openness.

"If you can stomach it, briefly, I think you'll be glad you did. I don't think you should paint for him, ever again. But if you can talk him into letting you into the atelier...If you have anything sentimental there--anything from your childhood, before Madarame--you should get it. Because once those things are gone, you can never get them back."

Yusuke was quiet, his face contemplative. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"M--maybe. I..." Akira shook his head, unwilling to divulge more. "Anyway. Ann, Ryuji and I shouldn't try to enter that atelier again. At least not in reality. But if you're willing to play along with Madarame for another day or two, I think I'll be able to scrape together a few other friends who can help you smuggle out your most important things, bit by bit. We might not be able to get large stuff, like your bed, but we can.....find a way to scrape up cash and buy you a futon. I know that couch will kill if you try to sleep on it for more than a day or so."

"I....I accept. But how can I thank you?"

"You're a teammate now. That's all it takes."

Intensely, Yusuke insisted, "Still. I'll find a way. I swear it."

Suddenly, Akira became aware of Sojiro's shadow, as the man loomed over his new ward.  He grunted, a hand on his hip. "What are you damn kids plotting now?" Gesturing to Yusukes phone he demanded, not unkindly, "Give it."

Yusuke looked nervously to Akira for confirmation.

_Uhh should be safe. He isn't in the Thieves chat yet._

Akira nodded, and his friend placed his phone in Sakura's waiting palm. Anxiously, the pair watched the man's narrowed eyes dart, reading Madarame's text messages.

"He's threatening your scholarship to Kosei, is that right?"

"Y...yes."

"That's crap. I've got a general idea of how scholarships are awarded and paid out, and I'm about 85% sure that this is an empty threat. But, that other 15%..." Sakura firmly placed Yusuke's cellphone beside his plate, glowering. "They give you any shit, kid, you let me know, and I'll give those guys a piece of my mind. You earned that scholarship on your own merits, yeah?"

"Y--yes, but Madarame-sens....er.....Madarame, he--"

"He's got some authority there, is that right?"

Yusuke nodded sadly, shoulders slumped.

"Well, I may not look it, kid, but I've got some pull of my own. Like I said, if they give you any problems....I'll see what I can do.  And you--"

He turned to Akira.  "I can't be entirely certain of this kid's living situation, but from what I'm gathering, he absolutely should not be throwing himself back into it.  There's no need for complicated espionage here, you idiot."  Akira reddened, a little embarrassed at having his own plan thrown back at him. 

"I have a car.  Tomorrow's a Sunday.  We'll drive down there, and load up whatever belongings he needs."

He looked Yusuke in the eye seriously, and firmly stated six words that carried within them the weight of the world.  "You don't have to go back."

Quietly, uncertainly, Yusuke murmured, "Sakura-san, I....I don't know what to say."

_Sakura-san...._

Akira spoke up, finally, his voice showing a hint of awe at the unexpected depth of caring his host had revealed. "Thank you, Sakura-san."

"Don't mention it. Hey, I'm closing up shop in twenty minutes, so you kids will need to head upstairs, got it? And like I told you before, no weird shenanigans in the store after hours. I **will** throw you out, do you hear me?"

The first time Sojiro Sakura had told him that, Akira had cowered, rejected and alone. But this time, bolstered by time spent genuinely getting to know the man, Akira simply smiled. "Got it, Sakura-san."

_He wants to be tough, but....I'm starting to think he doesn't have it in him. Still, I wouldn't want to be the one on the receiving end of an angry phone call to Kosei from him. Ha._

"C'mon, Yusuke. We should head up."

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
_As Sojiro Sakura hung up his apron for the evening he sighed heavily, glancing up the darkened stairs to his cafe's attic._

_He could barely hear the soft murmuring of the two boys he had now dedicated himself to playing host to. That, and a lot of meowing. He chuckled gently at that. He'd thought, before Akira arrived in Tokyo, that he'd be dealing with a hardened little criminal shithead. Instead he'd gotten a soft, timid kid, who treated his cat like it was another human being. A kid who kept bringing home strays...._

_(( That kid.... ))_

_Sojiro frowned as he wiped down tables, thinking over what he'd seen. Kitagawa had been dragged into the cafe by Akira and his friends, looking like he'd been completely run through the wringer. Brought absolutely nothing with him -- not even a backpack._

_School uniform crumpled and grass-stained, wobbling on his feet, messily-bandaged fingers....The kid had looked like he'd crawled out of the apocalypse, not a Shibuya taxi._

_(( Where did Akira even **find** that kid? I need more information. He looked like his entire world had just ended. ))_

_Part of Sojiro had balked at taking in another wayward teen, and had wanted to contact a child welfare agency instead.  But, then....his mind turned to another young teen, lost in solitude, with shadowed eyes growing dimmer by the day._

_(( I don't want to separate them from whatever support they've found in each other. If a kid in that situation can bond...lord knows I've learned the hard way how important that is. ))_

_He closed his eyes, momentarily saddened._

_(( But if he's staying here... ))_

_In his mind, he turned over what he'd learned through a combination of Ann's wheedling and his own plausibly-accidental eavesdropping._

_(( Kitagawa goes to Kosei, a prestigious private school. I know that much. But he came here, in that condition, and 'can't return home'. The dirt, yeah, that can be chalked up to a bad afternoon. But the kid's a skeleton, and his eating habits.... ))_

_Sojiro eyed the now empty seat at the counter, recalling the half-full plate of rice he'd scraped into the trash._

_(( A kid with that kind of background you'd think would be better cared for than that. I'll have to see if he'll agree to have Dr. Takemi take a look at him. ))_

_He mused uncomfortably._

_(( I'd always thought eating disorders were for teenage girls, but maybe that was just idiocy on my part. If not that, then something else is clearly going on. ))_

_(( He must have a parent or guardian. The "Madarame-sensei" who sent those shit texts--yeah, like anyone couldn't read the subtext in that?! But 'Madarame....' That **couldn't** be Ichiryusai Madarame. Of course not. Would a celebrity just toss his ward out into the streets? ))_

_(( The way Akira was talking is concerning in its own way.  Was he really going to hatch some hare-brained plot to get his friend's things? **That's** where his mind jumped to, without even considering asking an adult for help? ))_

_Flicking off the cafe's lights, Sojiro frowned in the dark, staring out through cold glass into the empty alley._

_(( Just what has Kurusu gotten himself into? ))_


	23. All of Us, Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I worry that this fic is moving way too slowly. Am I boring you guys with all of the little moments, between the more exciting stuff? Let me know! 
> 
> Stuff's gonna get....uh, tragic, in Kaneshiro's arc, so the rest of Madarame's seems like as good of a place as any to work on character relationships, you know?

Akira laid awake in the dark, listening to Yusuke's quiet breathing in the silence of midnight. Through the near-black room, he couldn't see the other boy in the yawning void that was the rear of the attic, but just being aware of his presence was enough to keep him from sleep.

_I think I underestimated how weird it would be to share space. Why do I notice Yusuke so much more than Morgana?_

_I know that Morgana is human, in his own way. So it isn't that._

_........._

_I don't know._

At his feet, Morgana purred in a gentle rumble. He tried to focus on that usually soothing sound and let it lull him to sleep, but it was useless. Restless, he just wanted to kick his sheets off and pace the room.

Again, he glanced toward the source of the gentle breathing in the darkest corner of the attic. Yusuke had been quiet for most of the night, and had settled in without much fanfare. Though they'd talked a little more after dinner, it had mostly revolved around the Thieves' story prior to Madarame's palace. The artist hadn't shared much about himself.

_But really, is that abnormal? I can't expect him to suddenly spill his guts and make sense just because he lives with me now._

He smiled to himself wryly.

_Have I really gotten so used to everyone in my life oversharing that this is throwing me off? He's allowed to do his own thing, even if that makes his presence here a little odd-feeling._

_I know that this is necessary. Yusuke's a teammate now, and as a leader, I have to look out for him. And even if he wasn't...._

_When I first met him, he seemed so self-assured.  Even pushy, ha.  And bold enough to ask for....ugh.  Maybe don't think about that, Akira._

_He was strong in the palace, in the end. But now, out of his element, he seems so vulnerable._

_[[ ...the memory of a broken figure, crumpled on the ground, tears soaking the dirt........the memory of a boy, trusting Akira (of all people) to guide him, fingers laced with his own.... ]]_

He stared into the dark again, squinting. Maybe, just barely, he could make out a curve of a shoulder in the moonlight.

_He needs to be here. I'm not entirely sure of everything he went through in Madarame's home, but even if he hadn't been thrown out....what kind of life could he have had there?_

It was no good. Akira's mind was far too active for sleep. He groaned, carefully disentangled his feet from Morgana's octopus-sprawled limbs, then pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Staring out of his narrow window into the moonlit night, his gaze made contact with another pair of eyes, shining from between swaying tree branches.

_You're up too, huh?_

It seemed that the crow had finished its nest. Akira hoped it felt more settled here than he did.

Slowly, he crept out of bed and down the stairs, holding his breath to avoid disturbing either of his roommates.

Downstairs, he padded into the kitchen, flicking on the dim florescent light in the hood above Sakura's gas range. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness.

Idly, he opened the fridge, and found two plates of curry already portioned out for the next morning, each labeled with a strip of masking tape. With a small smile, he noted that the plate marked "Y.K." had a much larger portion.

_Who would have thought Sakura-san would care so much? I....I never expected someone to--at least, without ulterior motives--but...._

He shut the fridge, and walked over to settle into his favorite midnight booth.

_This place. This life. It isn't bad._

_A little weird...._

His eyes flickered up the pitch-black staircase, where he knew a certain blue-haired artist was sleeping in his crumpled school uniform, on what Akira had come to think of as his own couch.

He flushed a little at that, though he wasn't sure why.

_But....but not bad._

Sliding down to slouch tiredly in the booth, his mind flitted over the facts of the day. How he'd found himself in this new position. The battle, with the newly-awakened Yusuke...

_[[ As Madarame fled for the stairs, his guards closed in. To his dismay, Akira found himself and Morgana blocked off from the others by a hulking striped beast._

_(( Not now! Not when that guy is both at his strongest **and** his most vulnerable! ))_

**_"Makami!"_ **

_Panicked, Akira called upon the Temperance Arcana Persona he'd favored throughout Madarame's palace to this point. But when he hit the grinning Security Shadow with Frei...._

_"It just shrugged it off! Joker, you need to use a heavier hitter!"_

_(( That's what I get, for only accepting the Personae I feel comfortable with. Ahh, shit, that leaves-- ))_

_Akira instinctively reached mentally for Arsene, but--_

_He flinched, hesitating. A mistake--the pause gave the creature an opening to attack. Akira took a crushing blow to the side of the head from the shadow's massive fist._

_"Gahhhh!" His vision blacked out for a moment as he flew backward from the impact._

_"Joker! Oh no!" Before he hit the floor, he felt a wave of healing energy wash over him from his fighting companion._

_(( My fault. Now Morgana's lost a chance to attack, and we've wasted more time! The others-- ))_

_"Mona, I'm fine! Stay on the offense!"_

_"O--okay! If you insist. **Zorro, Garu!** "_

_From the ground, through a green whirl of wind that whipped his hair from his brow, Akira saw that for now Yusuke appeared to be holding his own. In that strange burst of strength that seemed to accompany each newly-awakened Persona user, he stood side by side with Ann and Ryuji, unleashing an icy assault through his new power--Goemon._

_(( But when that rush of adrenaline breaks, if he falters....I've got to get through to them! ))_

_(( I can't be afraid forever. I've got to face whatever I did to myself, that day. ))_

_Akira staggered to his feet and called, finally, **"Arsene!"**_

_He shivered as he felt his own Persona crawl forward from its slumber in the depths of his mind. Icy chains shuddered against his shoulderblades. Black feathers caressed his spine. He heard a low whisper in the back of his head._

_(( ~ It's been a while, Trickster. ))_

_Miserably, he admitted the truth to himself._

_(( .....I'm sorry. I was afraid. ))_

_(( ~ I....was also afraid. ))_

_The reply made Akira stagger. He could feel Arsene's frayed ends within him, could mentally caress the gaps in the mortar where weeks ago **something else** had edged through._

_(( ~ Things are changed, but are also unchanged. I am still here, and so long as you have not forsaken me, and yourself, I will always aid you in your fight. ))_

_(( ~ Take caution, however. Even I cannot know for certain what awaits us, if this warping of our path continues. ))_

_(( ~ For now, let us fight. ))_

_Akira braced himself, both comforted and concerned. He'd hoped...he'd hoped to find Arsene restored to his original form entirely, but still, this....at least he hadn't been replaced by that **other**. That cold, heavy voice, born from fear._

_(( At least now I know. Arsene is here. And whatever that....nearly berserker presence was, it isn't mingled with him now. Not when I don't also call upon it. And I won't. I won't, I won't, I won't, I'll find my strength elsewhere. There must be a way. ))_

_Back to back with Morgana, he raised his knife, ears filled with the shouts of downed shadows, the crackle of lightning, the frigid snap of newborn frost, the groaning of metal as a certain golden statue took collateral damage in the fight._

_(( All of us, together. We'll find a way to survive. )) ]]_

Shaking himself from his reverie, Akira realized that he'd clenched his fingers around a book of crossword puzzles that Sojiro had left behind for a certain regular customer.

_Well, crap. Sorry, Sakura-san._

He set it down gingerly, trying to flatten out crumpled pages. Alone in the dark cafe, Akira couldn't help but wonder what would possess a man like Sojiro Sakura to take in two teenage boys?

_What could he possibly get out of this? I know that I help around the cafe sometimes, and that my mother sends him some amount of money...._

He flinched unhappily, considering how that cost might have to be repaid.

_But there's no way that that makes up for the annoyance of having us here. That's....that's what it means, to have kids like us underfoot, isn't it?_

He'd always thought so, but Sakura's continued kindness, however gruff, was slowly forcing him to consider that maybe, somehow, that wasn't the case. Not for every adult.

_I don't know. I don't know what this is. I don't know if things will stay this way. Stay this happy. Stay this....safe._

_But I hope they will. I like it here. I...I want to savor this feeling as much as I can, before the year is up, and I have to--_

He caught himself digging nails into his own palm, and sat on his hands. Now, without quite noticing it, he traded in that action for chewing his lip mercilessly.

_Sometimes, all of this intensity, this constantly being on the go... It makes me forget, for a moment, that at the end of it all, I'll have to go back. I'll have to go back, and make up for an entire year._

Thin, split lips moved in his memory.

_[[ "How can I go back to that man, now that my eyes are open?" ]]_

He squeezed his eyelids shut, trying to wipe Yusuke's earlier words from his mind. They didn't apply to him, after all. Another Metanav query that morning had set that fact in stone.

The reminder stung, bringing with it a sad, sick, guilty feeling over having searched his parents' names again.

_Why do I keep torturing myself?_

_At the end of the year, I'll be leaving them all. Whatever friendships I build, whatever bonds are grown. They'll all be as dead as that damned potted plant rotting upstairs._

_And back home....I can never let them know--I--no one will want me, if they--_

_But still, I..._

He dragged his hands out from under his thighs, worrying them again in distress.

_I want to know them better! I want to know why Ann started modeling, see what kind of home Ryuji's built with his mom, figure out how the hell to make all of them smile more. And I...._

Akira buried his face in his arms, crossed on the cool wooden cafe table.

_But I can't, can I? I need to accept that, even if it kills me._

He swallowed thickly.

_I'm worried about them, when I'm gone. About what I'll leave behind. What would have happened to Ann and Ryuji, left to pick up the pieces of everything Kamoshida destroyed? Where would Yusuke have gone, if I hadn't been there?_

He thought of the boy upstairs, gently breathing on his own creaky couch. Safe, even if not comfortable. Fed, even if not well-fed.

_I'll do what I can. In the time I have left._

_I'll build a safe world, for all of them._

_Even if I'm not deserving of it myself._

When he finally pulled away, the sleeve of his sweatshirt was wet. He sniffled, grey eyes glimmering in the dark. He'd tired himself out a little, at least.

Akira dragged himself back upstairs for another attempt at sleep.

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

  
      **Akira** : hey guys, adding Yusuke in here

_Yusuke has been added to The Delinquents Club groupchat._

      **Ann** : hi, Yusuke!

      **Ryuji** : hey :p

      **Yusuke** : Thank you very much. I wanted to tell you all again how much I appreciate your assistance. The past 24 hours have been....trying, and without your help, I'm confident that I would have been utterly lost.

      **Ryuji** : man, no need to get all intense about it. Your our teammate, and hey, you hit friggin hard in that palace!

      **Ann** : he's right! You'll help us just as much! Don't worry about it.

      **Yusuke** : I shall endeavor to live up to that, then. 

      **Akira** : Anyway, Sakura's driving us to Madarame's to load up Yusuke's stuff in a couple of hours. Either of you guys wanna come with?

      **Ann** : sorry, I would, but I promised Shiho I'd be there when she starts physical therapy today at the hospital

      **Akira** : oh, wow! She's starting already? Does that mean she's doing better?

      **Ann** : I guess that's what I'm hoping to see for myself. She's been so strong through all of this, though.

      **Akira** : let us know how it goes, ok?

      **Ann** : will do! And good luck today!

      **Akira** : yeah thanks, we'll need it

      **Ryuji** : hey sorry dude I can't make it either, I've gotta do some stuff around the house for my ma. But I might be free tonight??

      **Akira** : It's cool, just keep us in the loop.

Akira showed the last few texts to the boy seated at the counter next to him, then shut off the screen of his phone. "Looks like they can't make it."

"Yes. Well, perhaps that is for the best. I can't imagine Madarame-sens--ah--Madarame would appreciate everyone storming the palace gates, as it were. I won't have much to retrieve, anyway."

"I'll take your word for it." Akira stretched his legs out, catlike, as a delicious and increasingly home-like smell reached his nose.

Sojiro Sakura slid twin plates of steaming curry across the counter to the pair, and Yusuke's eyes widened dramatically at the size of his portion. "I--I couldn't possibly."

Sternly, Sakura insisted, "Kid, it's just yesterday's leftovers. Look, either you eat it or I throw it out. Up to you. But I'd prefer if you ate it."

"It'd be thrown out?!"

"Well I'm not going to serve day-olds to paying customers."

"In that case..." he raised his chopsticks, and Akira smiled in relief. "....I accept!"

"Good. Good." Sojiro kept a subtle eye on the boy as he turned away, and Akira caught what looked like a hint of a smile on the man's lips when Yusuke took his first bite, and cried out elatedly, "Delicious!"

Nodding, Akira agreed, "Isn't it? I'm not sure what it is, but there's definitely something special about Sakura-san's curry."

"Mmmph--um--" Yusuke tried to reply, but failed, mouth too full. Swallowing, finally, he got out, "Yes, the flavors are splendidly balanced. I've never had anything quite like it!"

_Well that's not surprising. I wonder what he **has** eaten?_

Speaking around a bite of potato that he'd just shoved into his mouth, Akira asked, "So, Yusuke, what do you think you'll be able to grab from Madarame's?"

Yusuke gulped down more rice astonishingly quickly, then took a moment to consider, spindly fingers tapping the countertop as he contemplated. "Well....I have to assume that any of the more extravagant materials will be out of the question. Although if Madarame assumes that I will still be completing a piece for him...."

His eyes narrowed, and Akira frowned.

_I don't like telling him to lie. Especially not if it keeps a thread tying him to Madarame. But we do need to buy time to finish his palace, and an excuse for Yusuke to keep some of his art supplies._

Akira took a sip of coffee, then checked in with his new friend. "Are you still okay with that plan? Telling him that you 'found inspiration elsewhere,' but still plan to complete a piece for his exhibit?"

"I wouldn't say the idea pleases me, no...." Yusuke grimaced, massaging the bridge of his nose with a pair of still-bandaged fingers. "But I can think of nothing better, so it will have to suffice. Because you were right."

"Right?"

"There are a few things that it would pain me to lose forever. Thank you, for your willingness to help me retrieve them."

Akira recalled, then, their conversation the previous night, and smiled a little sadly. "Of course. I'll do what I can."

The two boys then slipped into silence to finish their meal, though Akira noted unhappily that Yusuke only cleared about a third of his plate before he began kneading his stomach, a pained look on his face. As he stood to take his own dishes to the kitchen, Yusuke gestured to the remains of his breakfast and asked, "Could I....save the rest of this for later?"

Akira flashed an inquiring look to Sojiro, who frowned, but nodded. "Yeah, Yusuke. Hand it to me, and I'll wrap it back up. What's wrong? Curry not agree with you?"

Yusuke shook his head. "No, no, the food was exceptional. I'm just used to, ah, lighter fare. I'm sure I'll return to it later on."

"Okay. But if you need something while we're out, promise me you'll let me know, okay? I've got some spare cash, and am always down to grab some food."

"I will."

_Maybe I should pick up some snacks to store in the attic anyway. Something light and easy to grab? He says he'll tell me, but somehow I doubt that._

"Boys?" Akira raised his head as Sakura called out to them. The man was hanging up his apron and gesturing to a small storage area in the rear of the cafe. "It's about time to head out. Wash up, and then grab some of these broken down cardboard boxes. Drag those out to the car--uh, do you remember where my house is?" Akira nodded, and he continued. "Good, good. Like I said, drag those to the car, and then we'll take off."

As Sakura bustled away, grumbling unconvincingly about ".. _another_ lost Sunday....." Akira wavered, regarding Yusuke intently. "Are you ready?"

The artist's eyes flickered, and Akira was distressingly unable to tell what emotion hid behind them. Slim fingers tucked a shiny strand of blue hair behind an ear. Finally, he breathed out, "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."


	24. Sticky Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get Yusuke's stuff! And for Akira to lord it over Madarame like a little shit. :p
> 
> Sojiro wins the Battle of the Bitchspeak against Madarame.
> 
> And yes, Yusuke owns his outfit from the Dancing game, because of course.
> 
> Fun fact: I was once permanently thrown out of a high school art class as my teacher shrieked that I was "trying to incite a riot." 
> 
> That was neat. ^^;

_[[ Sojiro Sakura shut his car door, shooting a glance at the two anxious kids waiting in the back seat, laps loaded with cardboard boxes._

_(( Time to see just where this mystery kid came from. ))_

_He crossed the pavement to the front door of a place that looked so ramshackle that, at first, he'd genuinely questioned if the pair were pranking him -- could people really live here?_

_Eyes narrowed, he read the nameplate beside the front door._

_Ichiryusai Madarame_

_(( Well, shit. So I **have** gotten myself involved in a domestic dispute with a goddamned celebrity. Just what I need, after years of laying low. ))_

_Sojiro began to question his life choices. But another glance at the pale, narrow face peering out at him from his own backseat reminded him just why he'd made those choices in the first place._

_He ignored the buzzer, choosing instead a series of firm, no-nonsense raps on the rusted front door. Taking a breath, he arranged his face into a look of stern professionalism that he hadn't needed to use in...ages._

_(( But if I've got these skills, I may as well put them to good use. And if I've got to threaten him quietly to get those kids in the front door, well, it won't be hard. Not with the condition Kitagawa walked through my front door in. )) ]]_

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Akira peered around Yusuke's rigid body, trying to see just what was happening on Madarame's front step.

The boy beside him didn't let out much visible emotion, but his words betrayed at least some amount of anxiety. "What is he saying to sensei? Can you tell?"

Akira shook his head, watching Sakura gesture animatedly at the gently smiling old fraud. "No. I have a few skills, but unfortunately lip-reading is not one of them."

Madarame attempted to peer around Sakura again, trying to get a better look at the boys waiting in the car, and Yusuke gripped the leather of his seat so hard that it creaked. But, in that same instant, Sakura shifted subtly to block the man's view with his own body, snapping a finger to demand his attention.

_Wow, Sakura-san is a freaking boss. Not many people would dare something like that with someone that well-known, even if that person does put on a humble face._

The pair watched the conversation unfold with bated breath, until finally, Sakura turned, waving to beckon them forward with one outstretched hand. As he did so, behind his back, Madarame's eyes narrowed, shooting Yusuke a look of pure venom. The young artist flinched, and Akira put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to bolster him.

"Don't worry. I'm coming with you, and Sakura-san doesn't seem to be in the mood to take any shit today."

Yusuke breathed heavily, but relaxed under Akira's gentle touch. "Yes. Okay." A pale hand wavered, then opened the car door.

As Yusuke pulled himself up to stand on the grassy strip beside the sidewalk, Akira watched him transform before his eyes. He stood tall, a look of bland disinterest on his fine features, a stack of boxes balanced on one hip, as though this were simply another casual transition in his life.

_He seems like he doesn't care in the least. It's almost convincing, too. Is this the face he's always put on for Madarame?_

Dark eyes darted to meet his own, one eyebrow raised. "Coming, then?" Yusuke's voice was perfectly level.  Almost.

"Yeah. Oof, one sec." Akira shifted awkwardly across the seat, throwing boxes to the ground before clambering out ungracefully. Yusuke waited patiently as he re-stacked his load of cardboard (he'd insisted on carrying the bulk).

Before them, Sakura held the front door open, while Madarame loomed just inside. Akira realized with a grimace that they'd have to brush past the man to gain entrance.

_Not if I can help it._

Akira darted nimbly around Yusuke as they walked. "Ugh, can't wait to drop these off. They're more awkward to carry than I'd thought." He strode past Sojiro, then deliberately stumbled, knocking into Madarame with his stack of boxes.

The man grunted, displeased. "Oh, so sorry, Madarame-san. That was clumsy of me." He summoned up the most faux-apologetic face he could muster, glasses dangling on the tip of his nose from half-tripping. "There are just so many boxes. Would you mind stepping aside for a moment, so we can get through?"

Glowering, the man did so, and Akira had to stop himself from smirking in victory as Yusuke made his way inside unaccosted.

Still, that didn't stop the man from speaking up, fake humility on show for the witnesses. "Of course! Oh, it's no trouble at all. Yusuke, I regret deeply that **you feel** your space here is unconductive to the work **you've chosen** to do. But, please, dear boy, take whatever you must to secure your own success. I'll make do with whatever you leave."

Ahead of him, wavering in the hallway, Akira saw a look of genuine guilt flash across his friend's face. Only momentarily, however. In a blink, the emotion was washed away into impassivity.

_Yusuke, don't fall for that. You know now that whatever you have here is a drop in the bucket compared to his true wealth._

Sakura, meanwhile, was having none of it. Brightly taking Madarame at his word, he called out, "You heard him, boys. He said to take what you need, so load those boxes up!" As he walked in confidently, he allowed the door to slam shut behind him to punctuate his statement.

Smiling, he toyed with his goatee. "I must say, you are so **kind** to understand just what a kid like that needs to **succeed**. Fantastic to see." He clapped an astonished looking Madarame on the shoulder firmly enough to make the man stagger, then winked at Akira subtly. Together, it seemed to say, " _Oh, you want to pretend this is fine? Well, two can play at that game."_

At that, Akira really did smirk.

"Come on, Yusuke. Where's your room?"

"Just up these stairs. Follow me."

Behind them, Sakura lingered, taking up space with just his presence. As he trailed behind Yusuke, Akira heard the beginning of his guardian forcing trite conversation with Madarame. Not enough to be interesting, but just enough that it would be rude for the man to brush him off to pursue the boys.

_Thanks, Sakura-san._

 

 

_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

 

 

_[[ Yusuke knelt on his bedroom floor, agonizing over what to bring with him._

_(( Am I allowed to-- ))_

_(THUD. THUNK. THUD.)_

_(Clatter-clatter-clatter-clatter)_

_(( What was that--?! ))_

_He looked up at the noise, and saw Akira dumping an entire tray of premium paint tubes into a cardboard box._

_Alarmed, Yusuke called out, "Ah--I'm not sure I'm permitted to take those! They're...."_

_Akira made eye contact, smirked, and picked up another bin, tipping that one as well._

_(Clatter-clatter-clatter-clack)_

_".......quite.....expensive."_

_"Excellent. You should definitely keep them, then."_

_"But, Madarame--"_

_Akira interrupted. "...said that you should take 'anything that you need to be successful.' Right?"_

_Downcast, Yusuke replied, "That's true. But you know as well as I do that he wasn't being honest with that remark."_

_"Well, how are **we** supposed to know that? We're only following his instructions, after all." Akira's grey eyes crinkled gleefully, and, contagious as that sudden grin was, Yusuke caught a hint of the emotion himself._

_(( Can I? Truly? ))_

_Slowly, he said, "I....I suppose that's true, and only natural." He rose to open a particularly creaky cupboard, drawing out a polished wooden case of oil pastels, adorned with an intricate ebony inlay. Blandly, he remarked, "Madarame was gifted this by a Parisian art association. I'm sure they'd look lovely in your attic."_

_Akira's grin only grew. "Fantastic. Chuck 'em in the box."_

_Inhibitions released, their work went far more quickly. In the box went paintbrushes, watercolor sketchbooks, drafting paper, charcoal. Akira had **very** sticky fingers, and seemed to have a talent for ferreting out stashes of quality supplies that Yusuke had forgotten even existed._

_Then, spare school uniforms. Summer clothes. A pair of kimono. Yusuke drew one more item from his closet and laughed aloud. "I'd forgotten about this one."_

_Dangling from a hanger, he held out for Akira's inspection a heavy leather jacket, decorated from collar to cuff with hundreds of silver spikes._

_The other boy's face lit up at the sight, and Yusuke's cheeks warmed unexpectedly with pride. "That is **utterly amazing**. How could you possibly forget a statement piece like that?"_

_Turning it in his hands, Yusuke recalled, "Ah. It was my project for a workshop on 'Sculptural Design in Fashion' last year at Kosei. Do you like it?"_

_Akira reached out to poke the point of a single silver stud with one finger, then winced in surprise. "Those are actually sharp!" He laughed aloud, a bright, genuine laugh that opened his face beautifully, and Yusuke couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "I don't just like it. I **love** it."_

_"Truly?" Akira nodded. Yusuke continued, drolly, "Madarame **despised** it. Hm." He rotated the coat in the air contemplatively, one thin eyebrow raised. "I think that means it is growing on me." He shrugged it over his shoulders, surprised at how loose it felt._

_(( I remembered this fitting a bit more snugly. Oh well. ))_

_"Excellent. That will also look great in my attic. It's quite the party house."_

_Taken aback, Yusuke asked, "Is it?! I didn't know--"_

_But the other boy laughed. "Pfft. Of course not. Can you imagine? I'm, uh, really not the type."_

_(( Is he not? That's good to know, I suppose. ))_

_Yusuke knelt to access a low shelf, thinking as he did so that, really, he didn't know much about his ill-fated model. What sort of boy had he moved in with?_

_(( He has friends. Amassed in quite a short time, if I've gathered their timeline correctly. ))_

_(( He has an aura around him, though. It drew me in, certainly. Perhaps that is what brought the others closer as well. ))_

_Letting his hands guide themselves to rifle idly through the familiar shelf, he watched his new friend strip the bedding from his futon, then stoop to roll it up._

_(( Can we actually take that? ))_

_He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it._

_(( Far be it from me to try to stop him, at this point. ))_

_Akira's glasses fell down his face as he wrestled with the futon, and he dropped it momentarily to push them back up. His black hair fell messily into his face, and he grimaced, trying (and failing) to tuck it behind his ears._

_Reflexively, Yusuke did the same--a constant habit. As he did so, he realized that, probably, he should have offered to help Akira with the futon. Or insisted on taking care of it himself, entirely. Instead, he'd just watched his friend struggle with it, shoulders twisting as he rolled the thin mattress, surprisingly muscular for his lithe frame--_

_He turned away, reddening._

_(( Now....is not the time for artistic inspiration. Besides, his friends made it clear just how....inappropriate....my intentions had been. How mortifying. I only wanted-- ))_

_He shook his head, refocusing on the shelf at his feet._

_(( No matter. Now, these things.....they'll take more care. ))_

_Reverently, Yusuke withdrew a battered tin pencil case. It rattled slightly, and he pressed the latching mechanism to glance inside, ensuring that its contents remained within. A shadow fell over his shoulder and he looked up--_

_Akira._

_"What's that?" the non-model asked, stooping to lean over his shoulder for a closer look._

_(( I suppose I can show him. ))_

_Yusuke tilted the open box to a better angle for viewing its contents--a simple set of battered, wood-handled paintbrushes. The original paint had chipped away long ago. The bristles were frayed, and likely unusable. But, still--_

_He tenderly lifted one, and rotated it to bring a splotch of blue paint into view. "This....it's my mother's fingerprint."_

_Behind him, Akira gasped. "That's...." He was silent for a moment, and Yusuke turned the brush in his hands again, staring at the mark his mother had left behind. All he had..... "That's a really precious thing to have. Thank you for showing me."_

_Yusuke replaced it, snapping the lid shut. Gently, he smiled. "No, thank you. Truly. To have lost this...."_

_His heart twisted at the thought._

_"....but you didn't. So, your mother was an artist too?"_

_"Yes. I've been told she had some talent, as well."_

_"Those brushes are certainly love-worn."_

_(( "Love-worn." What a pretty sentiment. That love can wear on something enough to change it, while leaving a mark so poignant.... ))_

_"Do you have any of her art? I'd love to see it."_

_Yusuke shook his head, pained by the question. "No, I'm afraid this is all that I have of her. According to Madarame, her paintings were not worth much. Over the years, the canvases were painted over, and reused by other students. Perhaps I, myself, have destroyed one, without ever knowing...."_

_"I'm sorry, Yusuke." Akira sounded genuinely distressed over having broached the topic._

_"No, please. It's in the past. There's nothing to be done about it now."_

_Yusuke looked up at his new leader, who, for once, towered over him. Somehow, despite his ever-strong presence, he wasn't necessarily imposing. Behind the concerned-looking boy, his futon was rolled and tied shut, and several boxes were stacked, packed to the brim, a small, folded easel perched unsteadily on the very top. He stood, (accepting a hand up from Akira) then slid the tin box into his pants pocket._

_"But, still. I haven't lost everything." Yusuke took one last look around his childhood bedroom, saying goodbye with his eyes. Goodbye to the drafty window, to the thin curtains that made whirling, gauzy ghosts of the midnight breeze. Goodbye to cupboards he'd opened a thousand times in a flurry of inspiration, and to those he'd only in recent years grown tall enough to reach. Goodbye to the dancing women, to the stain of a fox, which now, instead of yawning, seemed to be calling, "Farewell!"_

_"I'm ready."_

_Together, they tromped up and down the stairs with boxes, making several trips. Madarame had clearly scowled when his gaze alighted on Yusuke's studded jacket, no longer relegated to ashamed solitude in the back of a closet._

_Sakura's eyes had crinkled merrily at the sight, seeming thoroughly amused._

_With each load of boxes, Madarame's eyes grew wider, but under Sakura's stern gaze he seemed unwilling or unable to protest. Doing so would, of course, risk fraying the persona he wished to project to the world._

_Finishing his last trip, Yusuke held the door for Akira as he lugged his rolled futon over his shoulder. He had to restrain a laugh as, strolling along, the boy made direct eye contact with Madarame, a shit-eating grin on his face._

_Sakura held up the rear guard as Akira traipsed away to tie the mattress to the roof of his car. "Thank you **so** much, **sir** , for your cooperation in this matter."_

_"Hmph. Um. Yes, of course." The man turned to Yusuke for one last pathetic attempt at covert intimidation. "Best of luck to you, Yusuke-kun, in your.... **endeavors**. I look forward to seeing where this **new passion** leads you." With that last, his eyes flicked past Yusuke's shoulder to fix on Akira's back, as the boy struggled to connect a pair of clips to affix the futon to the roof. _

_(( Is he...implying....? ))_

_(( I thought he'd insisted that my...preferences were never to be discussed or referenced. Surely, he doesn't think this is all because I-- ))_

_He shook the worries out of his head. They were irrelevant, now that he was leaving his mentor behind. Instead, in lieu of a farewell, he replied as blandly as possible, bowing slightly. "Thank you, Madarame-san. I look forward to it as well."_

_Sakura shut the door, then gestured to the car. "Time to go home, kid." Behind him, Akira pumped a fist, crowing in victory over finally securing the futon successfully._

_(( Home.... )) ]]_


	25. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I thiiink this is the last day of fluff before we get back into the Palace!
> 
> Ann and Ryuji have a bonding afternoon. Gotta build Akira a cozy room to cry in later~! ^^;

_[[ Meanwhile......_

_Ann raised her fist victoriously, having just met up with Ryuji in Shibuya Station after spending time with Shiho. "Okay! Mission: Make that Goddamn Attic Less Shitty is a go!"_

_"Riiiiiight." Ryuji scratched the back of his head. He was happy to help his friend out, but.... "Are you sure we should just be doin' this on our own? Won't he want to pick out stuff himself?"_

_"Maybe...but we're just getting the basics! Besides, when will we have **timeeee**?" Ann whined. "We're going into the Palace again tomorrow, and you know that'll wipe us out. Anyway...."_

_She grew more serious now, toying with the curled ends of one long pigtail. "I just....I want to surprise him. Akira...I want him to know that he deserves to be made a priority."_

_(( That's.... ))_

_Ryuji smiled, then._

_"Yeah, you're right. He's always looking out for us. It'll be nice to do somethin' for him for a change."_

_"Agreed! Now, where should we start...?" Ann tapped one manicured finger to her lip thoughtfully. "Honestly, I desperately want to buy him clothes, but something like that he should probably be here for. And I've never picked out stuff for a guy's room before. I have some ideas, but what do you think he needs?"_

_Ryuji chewed his lip, swaying back and forth on his heels, trying to picture the attic in his head._

_(( That guy doesn't have shit, to be honest. He....he likes books? But I don't know jack about his tastes, and he does already have a bookshelf. It's crazy dusty in there....um.... ))_

_Uncertainly, he replied, "Maybe....an air purifier? I'm a little worried those guys are going to get sick from all that dust. My ma makes me use one during allergy season so my lungs don't get too effed up for running."_

_"That's...practical."_

_"Is that bad?"_

_She shook her head. "No, actually. I wanted to find fun stuff, but maybe that is selfish of me. Something to look out for his health--and Yusuke's too, since he's staying there now. That might actually be for the best."_

_(( Yusuke....Akira's with that guy all day today. ))_

_Ryuji fidgeted uncomfortably. He wasn't sure why that made him so unhappy._

_(( Whatever. It's not like the guy can't have more friends. I just hope he....doesn't forget me. All of my track friends left me in the dust, and, well... ))_

_He forced himself to smile, and believe in his friend._

_(( But Akira's not like that. I've got to keep telling myself that. ))_

_Ann brightened. "Anyway, we should get started if we're going to be done before they get back."_

_She rummaged through the pocket of her hoodie, then brought out a single silver key tied to a bright orange string, and a small manila envelope. "I talked to Sakura-san last night, and he lent me a key to the cafe. He gave me some cash, too! If we hurry, we can get stuff set up in time to surprise him. Come on!"_

_"Ughh I'm just going to be a packmule today, huh?" Ryuji grumbled. But there wasn't any real bite behind it._

_They wandered the underground mall in Shibuya for what felt (to Ryuji) like hours._

_All went well, although the pair nearly came to blows in 'Home, Hearth, and Here' while trying to pick out throw pillows for the attic's couch. In the end, they both chose one, agreeing with a handshake that whichever one Akira picked up first would be the winner._

_Ryuji's choice featured a print of the cast of Featherman R, posed dramatically atop some sort of floating sci-fi space station. Ann's fluffy contestant was an enormous cactus with, inexplicably, a top hat, moustache, and monocle._

_Ryuji smirked confidently._

_(( He's totally going to go for mine. Like, obviously. ))_

_Then he groaned, lifting the laundry basket that they'd stuffed with homewares -- curtains for the window and to form a divider between the main and rear portions of the attic. Soft throw blankets. The aforementioned air purifier. Already thrown over his shoulder was a huge bag stuffed full of floor pillows. (("For when we all come over!")) Ann had said brightly, throwing them in the cart._

_(( Easy for **her** to say, when she's not the one sweatin' her ass off to lug this shit around! Akira had better. friggin. **love** these fluffy-ass things, goddamn it. ))_

_Close to the mall exit, Ann paused, and Ryuji grumbled, "What **now**? **Please** don't tell me you forgot something.  If you do, I swear I'm gonna scream.  Like, loudly.  And in public.  Right here."_

_She shook her head. "No. Actually I need a break, and I bet you do too. I'm going to text Sojiro and see how much longer he can stall for. Let's sit down somewhere and get something to drink, okay?"_

_"Thank friggin god. Yes, please."_

_Fingers tapping away on her phone, she lead him to a small cafe further into the station proper. "Want me to just order for you?"_

_"That works. I don't care what it is, 'long as it's cold."_

_Ryuji released his burdens with a loud ((THUMP)) and flopped onto a padded bench in the station's small food court. Sighing in relief, he rotated his shoulders. Then, he stretched his leg out with a wince. A dull, burning ache spread through the entire limb, centered around a sharp, stabbing pain in his shin._

_(( Today has been tough on this goddamned shitty leg of mine. Don't wanna say anything. She'd just give me shit for being a wimp, right? ))_

_He looked up, watching Ann interact with the smiling cafe employee._

_(( Well....maybe she wouldn't. But still. We needed to do this, so I've just gotta deal with it. ))_

_Ryuji prodded his shin with two fingers, then hissed, regretting it immediately. He should have known....but, part of him kept hoping that, one of these days, he'd poke it, and it would...._

_(( ....I dunno, hurt **less**? ))_

_(( I just can't accept that this is as good as it's gonna get. It's got to heal better someday, doesn't it? ))_

_Groaning, he stretched his leg out along the length of the bench, hoping Ann wouldn't make him move it when she returned. A little time with it elevated might help. And he suspected that he'd better get off the leg while he could--there was no way Ann was done with him yet._

_(( Speak of the devil.... ))_

_Ann approached, holding out a pair of bubble teas. "Hope these are okay! They're cold, at least. Mango or taro?"_

_"Ummm....taro, thanks."_

_She settled in next to Ryuji, took a long sip through her tea's oversized straw, and sighed happily. "Ahh, that's nice." Smiling, she turned to him. "How long has it been since we hung out like this, just you and I?"_

_"Huh....I'm tryin' to remember. I know it was some time at the tail end of middle school. Oh--! During summer break, right?"_

_Ann's face lit up, remembering. "Ohhh, that's right! We went out for ice cream, and you dripped yours all over my hair." She grimaced, nose crinkling, and then held her drink out threateningly, gesturing with it toward Ryuji's head. "Should I get you back? Huh?!"_

_Alarmed, he held out his hands in surrender. "Please, no! B--besides, you don't wanna get tea all over the stuff we bought for Akira!"_

_Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded sharply, accepting it. "Hmph, fine! You'll get away, just this once." She couldn't keep the sternness together though, and snorted._

_The laughter was contagious, now that some of Ryuji's exhaustion was leaving him, and he chuckled, asking, "Man, why'd we stop hanging out, anyway? I mean I know I'm not the best friend ever, but we had a pretty good thing goin' back in the day."_

_Ann's laughter trailed off, and Ryuji wondered if he should regret the question. She didn't look **upset** , exactly, but...._

_"Well, do you remember that my parents are in the fashion industry?"_

_Ryuji honestly hadn't, but he felt a little guilty for forgetting from their middle school days and nodded anyway._

_"They're gone pretty frequently, overseas. They'll come back now and then, but the last few years, it seems like they're only in Japan if the trip can coincide with work, or some networking event." She sighed, stirring her drink. "When I got into modeling a couple of years back, honestly...? It was only out of boredom. Or maybe I was filling a gap."_

_"Hm. Maybe I just liked the attention. Some adult to fawn over me and brush my hair, the way my mom used to when I was young. Even if they were paid to do it. Pretty pitiful, right?"_

_Ryuji tried to imagine his life without his mom's attention. Going back to the same old apartment every day, knowing that no one was waiting for him. That no one knew how late he'd choose to be out, if he was eating okay....no one to put those silly, cheesy notes in his lunchboxes._

_He shook his head. "No, dude. I'd be lonely too."_

_Her lips turned down sadly. "The modeling helped for a while. But then my manager became more and more demanding, and it sucked away so much of my time. I had to withdraw from a lot of other people. The few friendships I had. In the end, I was more lonely than ever. Shiho was the only one who stubbornly refused to be left behind. Still, I'm sorry that I let our friendship die back then, Ryuji."_

_"Hey, I get it. No worries. I could have stepped up too, you know? Tried harder. Even at Shujin--you know, Akira kinda laid into me once for not sticking up for you more, and I realized I'd been a huge moron. I'm sorry for that."_

_Ann's blue eyes widened. "Did he? That's...sort of surprising." She thought for a moment, and reevaluated. "Then again, maybe it isn't. Akira is always thinking, isn't he? Noticing stuff."_

_"Yeah. He was right, though, and I'm gonna do better. Promise.  But hey, this second chance is pretty great, isn't it?" He grinned sharkily, and was glad to see that she smiled, just a little._

_"Yeah, it really is. Just another thing to thank our leader for, right?" She patted her pockets, dug out her train pass, and waved it in the air. "Speaking of, we should start heading to Yongen. We need to drop this stuff off at Le Blanc, and then I still want to check out that little thrift shop. You good to go?"_

_"Yup. Hey, can we stop by my place on the way back? There's somethin' I wanna grab." ]]_

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Akira was surprised, upon their return, to find the door to Le Blanc unlocked. "Hey, Boss?" he called behind himself.

"Huh? 'Boss?'" Sakura looked up from the trunk of his sedan. He'd been piling boxes higher and higher in the arms of an increasingly alarmed-looking Yusuke, whose knees were beginning to buckle from the weight.

Akira smiled at the man. "Yeah! I think it fits you, after the way you handled Madarame for us. Besides, I do technically work for you, right?"

Sakura's lip twitched with the hint of a smirk, his eyes warm. "Ha! I like it, kid. Anyway, what's up?"

"Oh, right. Did we leave the door unlocked? I'm so sorry, if I forgot--"

His guardian's eyes widened, and he said quickly, "Oh, no, I....I was the last one to leave the cafe." His eyes flickered up to the window on the top floor, and he continued slowly, "I...must have....forgotten. Don't worry about it."

Akira shrugged. "If you say so." He suspected that _something_ was up, but was too eager to unload the burden in his arms to argue. Akira pushed through the front door of the cafe, comforted by the familiar jingle of the bell.

The cafe was warm, and bright in the early afternoon light. He set the box on the counter, then dragged a stool over to prop the door open for the other two.

About to reclaim the carton of art supplies, he paused suddenly.

_Ryuji said he might be free tonight, didn't he? I should call him and let him know we're back._

He tugged his phone from his pocket and dialed his friend's number, then held the phone to his ear as he strolled into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Filling the carafe with water, he froze as he heard, above his head--

_☆'You'll never see it comiiiiiing~ ☆ 'You'll see, that my mi--_

A muffled, "Oh shi--" floated down the stairs, and the music was silenced, just as his phone's dial tone abruptly cut off.

_?????_

_(( What the...? There **is** someone in here! ))_

"R....Ryuji....?" Akira called up the stairs cautiously.

Silence.

_If this is some kind of weird prank....._

Setting the pot of water beside the sink, he lifted Yusuke's box again, thinking that if it _was_ an intruder, throwing it would, at least, be distracting.

Slowly, he crept up the stairs, ears tuned to listen for any noise whatsoever that might be coming from his room. He thought he heard a creak, and--that was definitely a sneeze! But Sakura and Yusuke chose that moment to stomp into the lower cafe, obscuring anything else he might have heard.

"Boss? Yusuke?" He called down, voice wavering. "Would you guys hurry up here? I think--"

As his head crested the top of the stairs, the words died in his throat. Flailing in shock, he dropped the box he was holding. Tubes of paint clattered back down to the first floor as he stared, wide-eyed at his room.

**"What the hell? Akira??"**

**"Ah--is all well?!"**

Voices called up the stairs anxiously, but Akira couldn't seem to open his mouth to reassure them.

_My room--!_

This..... **was** his room, right?!

Hand slapped across his mouth, he spun, taking in the explosion of clashing colors and patterns that had been vomited across the attic.

_Wha.....what...? What is this?_

A round, braided rug, vividly orange and blue, was surrounded by a circle of floor pillows, each in a different style and pattern. One seemed to be burgundy velvet, with....were those tassels?? Another was in the shape of a rabbit, complete with long, floppy ears.

On his bed, two impossibly fluffy blankets were folded-- one a green and grey plaid, the other turquoise blue and printed with yellow ducks.

_This is....._

On his desk, a small air purifier rotated, colored strings tied to its plastic slats blowing in the wind.

There was more, but he was quickly becoming too dumbfounded to process it all.  Flabbergasted, he walked backwards into Yusuke's portion of the attic, noting another, fuzzy rug beneath his feet.

He flopped onto the couch, which revolted against his presence by flinging a pair of pillows to the ground. He picked one up, trying to make out what it was, though his eyes were becoming blurry with overwhelmed tears. It was green....?

He hugged the pillow to his face, only to fling it across the room in a panic when a high-pitched voice shrieked, **"HA! YES, I TOLD YOU! IN YOUR FACE, RYUJI!!"**

This was too much. Way too much.

_Ann?! Ryuji?!?_

In a dark corner of the attic his friends huddled, watching him, huge grins on their faces. Ann pumped a fist, crowing at Ryuji about having won some sort of bet. Ryuji's face crinkled happily as he smiled at him. "So, d'ya....do you like it?"

_.....did they...? They--they--they made my room so--so--_

Emotion welled up inside him.

_It's-it's--they---!_

Akira burst immediately into tears.

_It's been so long, since--since--shit--_

"Oh, shit!!" Alarmed, his friends rushed to his side. "Did we mess up, dude?!" A flurry of movement, as Sojiro and Yusuke reached the attic, and the older man fussed, "What the--you guys made him cry??"

Akira sniffed hard, overwhelmed. He brushed tears from his eyes, then, though his lips quivered, smiled up to them all.

_My room. It's ridiculous. So bright, and nothing matches. It looks like five different kid's rooms went on a bender and threw up all over the attic._

_I love it so much._  
_I love them so much._

Seeing his smile, Ann and Ryuji relaxed, and he laughed, his face in the palm of his hand, embarrassed. "I'm.....I'm sorry, this is just so nice. I don't know what to say, guys. I love you both so fucking much."

Silence.  Then, quietly, Ann's voice muttered, surprisingly embarrassed-sounding, "Well, we love you too, you little dork, so of course we had to spoil you.  Hope you like the colors.  I matched them to your weird-ass sock collection.  Which is to say, it all clashes disgustingly, and **_I_** think it suits you."

He glanced up, eyes peeking through his fingers, and saw that both of his friends' faces were beet red. Across the room, Boss smirked at them all. Yusuke, seeming oblivious, knelt to frame his view of the bunny-pillow with his hands.

Akira rose shakily. "Thank you both. I....this is absolutely amazing." He held his arms out wide, and Ann and Ryuji (their embarrassment falling away) dove in for a hug.

Akira felt so, so warm.

Releasing them, he glanced over at his guardian. "You were in on this, huh, Boss?"

Running his hands through already-slicked-back hair, the man looked away, the hint of a smile in his eyes. "I may have been aware. The idea was all on them, though." He turned for the stairs then, muttering that _" **somebody** has to drag that futon in."_

Ann skipped across the room to follow him. "I'll help, Sakura-san!"

As she left, Ryuji seemed to suddenly remember something. "Oh, dude, c'mere for a sec." His friend gestured to a large purple shoebox stuffed in his bookshelf, overflowing with cords and wires.

"Huh? What's...?"

"So, I stopped by my house, and, like, it's nothing special but....." Reddening slightly, the blonde forced the box into Akira's hands roughly.

_Is this an old game console? There's something under it, too._

"Ryuji?"

"We stopped at that thrift store near your place this afternoon and bought you one of those old tube TVs and a DVD player. They're gettin' delivered later this week.  Like I said, nothin' special, but it should work with this console."

Still red, Ryuji looked away, shuffling his feet self-consciously.  "I, uh, I used to play it a lot when I was a little kid. I dunno really if you're into games and stuff, but I was thinkin'....maybe....we could play together sometime? I know it's kinda lame, but--"

"--I'd love to! Wow, I haven't seen one of these since I was in elementary school!" Ryuji's face lit up as Akira dug through the box, rifling through the games he'd included. "Oh my god, "Star Forneus?" I sucked ass at this game, but that didn't stop me from trying." He laughed, removing cartridges to lay them out on his bed. But, in the bottom of the box--

He pulled out a handful of t-shirts, then held them up curiously. One of them was familiar--the bright yellow, starry shirt Ryuji had worn the day they met. Akira reddened, realizing that Ryuji had given him his own clothes. Stuff that he'd actually....worn.

Ryuji scratched the back of his head, explaining, "Oh, yeah, I threw those in there to see if you'd want them, but if you don't I can take 'em back. I was, uh, totally gonna just donate them, but I thought to myself, 'what if that guy wants them?' so....."

"I'll. Uh. Yeah, I'll wear them, why not?" he said, with as much deliberate nonchalance as he could muster.

_Aghhh. Damn it. I've killed that crush as much as I can. Like. 99% successfully. But this does not help._

Akira set the shirts on his bed, turning away in the hope that his friend wouldn't see just how flustered he was. He succeeded, but Yusuke's level gaze met his eyes instead, as the artist watched them, spindly legs splayed out crookedly from his perch on the bunny cushion.

_Why does it make me feel about a thousand times more awkward to have Yusuke watching this?_

Looking away, his view settled on the stack of boxes Yusuke had brought up, one labelled "Downstairs Misc." Seizing the opportunity, he said, "Oh, speaking of clothes....."

Akira tore the box open, tugging out a black blazer and a familiar series of formal accessories. "I rescued this for you. Now hopefully your mom won't get after you for losing them."

"Aw, yeah! Thanks, man." Taking the bundle of clothing from Akira's arms, Ryuji dug in his pocket, withdrawing a small green bottle. "One more thing, and then I **think** we're done overwhelmin' ya. We picked up some plant food at that flower shop in the underground mall--they're hirin', by the way, did you know?"

When Akira shook his head, Ryuji continued. "Anyway. I guess you, like, mix it with water, and it feeds your plant? Should help that little guy perk up a bit."

_I keep telling everyone the plant is dead...._

Although, now that he thought to look at it, the still-quite-sad-looking houseplant did seem...possibly....less crispy? A few leaves had unwrinkled, he could see what might be the buds of new leaves sprouting here and there.

_Probably just mildew or something, though._

As Akira turned the little glass bottle in his hands, slim fingers reached out from behind him to pluck it away.

Ryuji scowled, but managed to rein in his annoyance, as Yusuke examined the label, then gestured to the stairs. "Oh--allow me! I'll fetch some water from the cafe. I should grab more of my things as well."

As the tall boy dashed down the stairs, Ryuji grumbled, "That guy still has a ways to go when it comes to social skills."

Akira shrugged. "I guess. But I don't mind, honestly."

His friend raised a single blonde eyebrow skeptically. "If you say so. Well, as long as he's let up on tryin' to get you to nude model for him." Akira grimaced at the reminder, and Ryuji coughed awkwardly. "He, uh, **has** stopped that, right?"

Blushing all over again, Akira groaned. " **Yes** , Ryuji. Can we like....just never speak of that again, please?"

"Pffft. Like I'm gonna let you live **that** down," Ryuji scoffed. But, the scowl on Akira's face seemed to make him reevaluate. "Ughh, yeah, yeah, we'll forget it."

Ryuji reached out one calloused hand to ruffle Akira's hair, and he leaned into the touch, content, despite his friend's awkwardness.

_Today.....today has been a good day.  I...I swear, I'd do anything for these guys.  Anything._

_I don't know if this will last.  How long we can keep this together.  How long **I** can--_

_....but I know I'll never forget it._

He smirked over at his friend, knocking into him with one shoulder. "C'mon. Race you downstairs for more boxes?"

"You're on!"

 

 

 


	26. Paint Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palace fun! And by fun, I mean a Rough Day (tm).  
> They don't make it, uh, terribly far in today. 
> 
> Paintings and sand storms and sea monsters, oh my!

Akira opened his eyes and felt momentarily off-balance.

_Where....am I?_

His heart beating, Akira tried to reconcile the darkness of the room he'd found himself in, the sound of wind, the unfamiliar sensation on his face. Then, he remembered, relaxing.

_Oh, right--!_

_Home..._

That's right. Curtains now blocked more of the morning sun than he had become accustomed to, and after a moment he recognized the sound of the fan whirring from his desk. As for the feeling....Smiling, he snuggled deeper into the ridiculous plush duck blanket Ann and Ryuji had purchased the previous day.

It was so warm and comforting....but, he knew he couldn't stay in bed forever. Not today.

With a groan, he forced himself out of bed, reaching for his glasses. At his feet, the bed trembled as Morgana stretched his furry limbs. His teammate had wandered in late the previous night, and Akira couldn't help but wonder--

_What does this guy do all day? Tokyo can't be that fun for someone in a cat body._

_....What would **I** do?_

Shuffling across the room to dig his school clothes out of his cardboard box, he fantasized about life as a cat.

_Bet I could sneak on the train for free._

_Where would I go...? There's so much of Tokyo that I haven't seen yet. Akihabara, Harajuku, Shinjuku....although I hear that area is kind of sketchy. But as a cat, I could see it all without being noticed._

_No eyes on me....that would be nice._

"Hey, Morgana? What do you want for breakfast? I think Boss has some red snapper in the fridge downstairs?"

"Really?! Yes please! Uh...I mean, yes, that might just suit me." The furry lump tried to play it cool at the end, but was clearly thrilled.

"Coming right up, **sir.** "

He laughed a little to himself, padding downstairs. It was still early. Maybe he'd make himself some coffee. And, Yusuke?

_Does he even like coffee? Guess I'll find out._

_I......hope he likes it._

Akira had slept better last night, and had a bit of a spring in his step as a consequence. He wasn't sure what had done it--maybe the curtains his friends had hung to divide the attic for at least some semblance of privacy. Or the drone of the air purifier, gently drowning out the few sounds the sleeping artist made in the night.

_It's not like he's a **bad** roommate. Honestly, he's mostly kept to himself so far. Is he really comfortable here?_

Akira pressed his lips together, wondering anxiously. They'd rushed into the arrangement out of necessity, but there was a possibility that neither of them was really suited for cohabitation.

_I guess time will tell. I'll....just do my best. First step, coffee! I think I'm getting better at this, after working in the shop here and there. The first time I made it..._

He grimaced, recalling the disgusting, burnt sludge he'd brewed on his first attempt.

_Pretty sure I'm lucky Boss didn't throw me out on the spot for disgracing the coffee beans I'd used so badly. But now...._

He took a sip of what he'd brewed, and sighed happily. It was mellow, and just a little sweet. It didn't have as much depth as it could when Sakura made it, but to him it was still heaven. Akira poured a second cup, then set them aside to prepare a dish for Morgana. He smiled, recalling what Ann had pointed out in the kitchen before she left the previous evening.

_[[ "Hey, we found this china in that little junk shop down the road. Use it for Morgana, okay? I **was** going to get him this adorable cat dish set, but then I thought, 'would that be rude? He's not a cat, after all,' and bought him these instead."_

_She'd smiled fondly, taking a small navy blue and gold tea cup down from the shelf. "They're a little chipped here and there, but hopefully he'll like them. I know he likes to act like he's **so mature**. So something a little fancy--maybe it'll help him feel taken seriously. ]]_

Akira poured water into a tea cup, set it on a saucer, and flaked fish on a small dish. He stacked that and the two coffee cups on a tray, then called up the stairs, "One order of red snapper, coming up! Yusuke, I brought you some coffee too."

"Oh! That wasn't necessary, but thank you regardless."

He cringed a little.

_Not necessary? So does he not want it after all?_

Akira eyed the pair of coffee mugs on his tray, feeling silly, now, for assuming. But, it was already done, so he might as well give it to him.

_Whatever. If he doesn't want it, he can dump it._

Morgana's heartwarming reaction to Ann's thoughtfulness lightened his mood, at least. The not-cat's blue eyes glimmered with emotion as Akira set the tray on his desk, where Morgana could sit up in a chair to eat. "Lady Ann....she went to this trouble for me? She...."

He looked away, and Akira turned to give him some privacy. He knew how it felt, to be overwhelmed by kindness.

Walking toward the rear of the attic, a steaming mug of coffee in each fist, Akira murmured, "Well, of course. We all care about you, y'know." There wasn't a response, but, hopefully Morgana understood. Even if no one knew just who or what their teammate was....he was still just that--their teammate.

As Akira pushed through the curtain that now obscured the rear of the attic, he found Yusuke rifling through a cardboard box, choosing items to carry in his schoolbag for the day. The boy seemed to have returned to his usual impeccable, well-groomed self, the crumpled school uniform of his first evening at Le Blanc a thing of the past. Suddenly Akira felt a little self-conscious about his own untucked shirt and bedraggled hair.

"I, uh...like I said, I made you this." He held out one mug, looking away with a strange twist of embarrasment. "If you don't want it though, it's fine."

Yusuke looked up, seeming startled. "Oh, no, quite the contrary! I avoid caffeine, usually. It...tends to simply make me jittery. But today--" The corner of his lip twitched slightly, in what might have been a trace of a rather grim smile. "--I think I'll take whatever energy I can get, consequences be damned. We....."

The artist stared into his steaming cup, frowning. "We are returning to the Palace today, correct?"

_Oh. Of **course** he'd be a little thrown off. Damn it, Akira. Why do I have to take things so personally?_

"Yeah, we are. We'll meet up after school. Are you going to be okay?"

"Ahhhh--" Yusuke exhaled, eyes squeezing shut in a wince, a long finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know, that's an excellent question."

A question he seemed to be choosing not to answer, as he took a sip of coffee instead. His eyes opened as the liquid hit his lips, and Akira wondered for a horrible second if he'd burnt Yusuke's coffee after all. But then the boy sighed, smiling gently, and Akira relaxed. "This is truly wonderful. You made this yourself?"

"Yeah. It's not as good as Sakura-san's, but he's not usually here this early, so....you'll have to deal with mine." Akira laughed self-consciously.

Yusuke shook his head slowly, blue hair falling into his eyes in a single sleek wave. "It's not a matter of 'dealing with it' at all, I assure you. Thank you. This..." He took another sip, leaning back against a crumbling plaster wall. "This makes a strange morning significantly better."

_That's....I'm glad._

Nervous in a way he couldn't quite pinpoint, Akira muttered, "We still have some time this morning, but...after breakfast, would you want to walk to the train station together?"

His face warmed as the artist replied, simply, "Of course," bandaged hands clasped around coffee that he had made.

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

_In the Palace......_

 

  
"Did we hit a dead end?" Ann uttered, frustrated. She leaned over a railing to stare into the gallery beneath them, squinting in an attempt to find a missed pathway or door--any way to proceed. They hadn't made it far in the Palace, and already, they'd hit a literal wall.

Akira frowned. "There has to be a way forward, but....I don't see it."

"Well, there's no way through _here_ , that's for sure. Only things up here are more paintings. Though, uh....Joker?" Akira turned to Ryuji, who was staring up at a desert landscape, a look of confusion on his face. "Don't these look a little weird to you?"

"Weird.....?"

_Now that he's mentioned it....._

As he watched, the paint seemed to shift slightly. At first, he assumed that it was a trick of the eye, but--

Yusuke brushed past him, reaching out a hand toward the painting. "I remember this one. The artist, I recall, she...."

His appeared to intend to trace the brush strokes with his fingertips, and Akira called out in alarm, as the landscape twisted further, "Wait, Fox, don't--"

Too late. Rather than hitting solid canvas, Yusuke's hand sank into a painted dune up to the wrist. Dark eyes widened behind a kitsune mask.

"Oh, shit!" Ryuji shouted in alarm.

Yusuke withdrew his hand immediately, and Akira breathed a sigh of relief. No damage--though his pale blue glove was now muddy with what appeared to be streaks of taupe paint.

"Fox!" he admonished, in his best I'm-actually-a-leader voice, "Next time, _wait_ before touching something that out of place! These Palaces have traps, okay?"

Abashed, Yusuke looked down at his own filthy glove. "My apologies. But, there seems to have been no real harm done. And...." He raised his hand to point into the distance, toward the rear of the upper gallery. Along the wall, more of these bizarre, warping paintings ranged, frame-to-frame. "....this may well be our path forward."

_Is he suggesting.....that we travel through the paintings?_

Peering along the wall, Akira could see that they seemed to form a fairly solid path to the hall on the opposite side of the gallery. And the landscapes _looked_ tame enough. No monsters, no weaponry, no lightning or fire. Just...land.

The initial desert landscape bordered on a watercolor of a mountain range featuring a familiar red shrine gate. After that, a placid lake would carry them to scaffolding that the group could creep across to reach the other side.

He didn't particularly like it, but with the bizarre logic of a place like this....he supposed it made as much sense as anything else. Akira nodded, hoping he appeared more confident than he felt. "Might as well try it."

"For _real?!"_ Ryuji blurted out, alarmed. "Do we really gotta go in there?"

"If you're afraid, I'm willing to go in alone at first to make sure it is safe," Akira replied, trying to be reassuring.

At that, Ryuji scowled. "N....nah. If you're going for sure, then I'm in too, I guess."

"Okay, then." Akira took a deep breath, then glanced at his teammates to make sure they were ready to follow. Ann and Ryuji looked tense, but resigned. Yusuke, on the other hand, seemed fascinated, still leaning a little too close to examine the painting.

_Well, he'll get all of the close-up experience he wants now, ha._

Akira closed his eyes and, before he could lose his nerve, leapt headfirst into the swirling dunes.

Reopening them, the first thing he noticed was a disgusting, bitter taste on his tongue. Within this painted world, wind blew, and specks of acrylic sand had flown into his mouth.

Akira grimaced, wiping his lips with his gloves, but that only seemed to make matters worse. Looking down at his hands, rather than seeing crumbled, dry sand (as he'd expected), what he had tried to wipe away had smeared across his gloves, staining them tan.

Around him, more of the stuff swirled, strangely jittery. It was like watching a storm of pointilistic dots of colored pencil, following rules of their own in an unsettling, blinding dance.

 _((THUD))_  
**_((THUD))_ **  
_((THUMPF))_

Behind him, his teammates landed in the sand. Squinting through the storm, Ann called out, "Ugh, what is this stuff?!"

Ryuji raised his hand, and, before Akira could warn him, rubbed his eye with his knuckles. "Aghhh--shit--shit--I got it in my eyes--! Dammit, this shit burns!"

Yusuke sputtered, trying to spit more of the same gritty mud from his mouth. "This is....much more....pffft.... unpleasant..... than I'd expected."

_We've got to get out of this painting. The air looked clear in the one beside it. If we can just get through this sand storm. But we're running blind--if we're separated--!_

Thinking fast, Akira called out, "Everyone, join hands! We can't let ourselves get lost in this shit. We'll form a line, and walk forward together."

Another gust of wind blew grit into his eyes, and he grimaced, trying his best to blink it away. Half-blinded, he reached for a blur of pink, gripping Ann's hand. "Panther, can you reach someone?"

"Yeah, I--pffft--yech--ahh, Skull, that's you, right?"

"No, it's not, I can't--you must have--"

The storm was worsening, and Akira could barely see the hand he gripped, let alone his other teammates. Beginning to panic, his heart beat wildly.

_Shit, I can't lose them in this--_

"Wait, somebody's got me!" Ryuji called out, and Akira's chest unclenched slightly.

Yusuke chimed in, "Yes, I.....pah! I believe I am between Panther and Skull. Let us--pffft--ughh--let us move!"

Step by step, Akira dragged his friends through the storm, eyes squeezed shut to protect them from the sting of acrylic sand.

Several minutes passed, and he began to fear that he'd lead them in a circle, or in the wrong direction.

_They're counting on me, I can't--what was that--?!_

A breath of sweet air reached his nose, far different from the bitter pelt of the desert storm. Opening his eyes in the smallest, most cautious squint, he saw clear air in the distance.

He squeezed Ann's hand. "Almost.....there, guys. Just...hold on!"

One final push, and they tumbled together into the stillness of a mountain evening.

Flopping on the ground, the thieves panted, recovering from their ordeal.

Minutes later, Yusuke was the first to speak up. "That was....truly dreadful."

A chorus of "Yup." "Uh-huh." "Let's never do that again." followed his words. Finally, Akira rolled over, taking in their surroundings.

They were sprawled at the base of a stony mountain trail, faces dappled by painted streaks of pale moonlight. This world was softer, less bitter and acrid. While the environment around them shifted, it was gentler, more sinuous.

_Watercolors, huh? Well, I'll take it._

He pulled himself up to standing, then reached out a paint-splattered glove to Ryuji, who was still panting on the ground. "Come on, guys. This one seems safe enough, but we should keep moving."

As the thieves made their trek up the mountain, Yusuke's head swiveled around in awe. The artist seemed determined to mentally capture every inch of their surroundings. Slowing his stride, Akira fell beside him. "You said that you recognized the last one. Do you know this painting, too?"

Yusuke shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. Perhaps this is from before my time with Madarame. This world is...."

The boy exhaled, breath blooming into a gauzy grey swirl in the cold mountain air. He raised a hand, catching the painted mist in his palm like a silvery curtain. It ran down his glove in glimmering rivulets, and the hint of a smile passed over his thin lips. "...it is fascinating, however. Were it not for the danger to us all, I would love to linger."

The artist's eyes were alight with bright fascination. Akira couldn't help but smile.

"Well, get as much in as you can. I'm afraid we're nearly to the gate at the mountain's peak, but...." He fell silent for a moment, closed his eyes, and breathed.

When he reopened them, Akira tried to see the watercolor world through his friend's eyes. The contrast between their slithering, midnight blue shadows and the white stone that crushed to a chalky powder beneath their boots. The green brush strokes that were gently rustling tree leaves, shifting into deep blue and nearly black, as the evening breeze brought them into shadow.

"It really is beautiful, isn't it? I'll never see anything like this again."

"Hm. That's likely true. Still, sometimes, in a dream...." The artist turned to pluck a fallen leaf from Akira's hair. The green smear crumbled, then ran like water between his fingers. "Things come close." Akira's breath caught at the sight, reality threading its way through thin fingers, his friend's sharp features framed by the light of a paper moon.

_Beautiful...I..._

"Ah. It appears we have arrived."

He blinked, looking ahead. Sure enough, just before them, the red gate loomed. Through it, gentle waves lapped the shore of a huge lake. Bobbing against the sand, a small boat was moored to a single large tree stump.

"Right. Just one more painting, and we're through. You ready?"

Yusuke looked back at the midnight path, a look of intense longing on his face, broken by a pained sigh. "No, but yes. Let's continue onward."

Ahead of them, Ryuji sat on the tree stump that served as the boat's anchor to land, tethered by a thick, twisted rope.

Fidgeting while waiting, the blonde kicked the wood repeatedly. Flecks of dark brown paint floated through the air, agitated by each fresh kick.

Ann stood by the water, gazing across the tranquil lake. "I think we'll have to take this boat. But things look calm. It shouldn't be a problem, right Joker?"

Joining her by the water's edge, he stopped to scoop lake water into his palms. It had looked pristine from afar, but cupped in his hands it now looked grey and muddy.

Green and blue tendrils of color floated in his hands, and Yusuke murmured from over his shoulder, "Discarded paint water." He sniffed. "There's some brush cleanser in there as well. I wouldn't suggest stopping for a drink, if that's what you were hoping."

Akira let the water run through his fingers, straightening. "No, definitely not. The water looks safe enough for boating, but we can never assume. Still, let's give it a try." He nodded to Ryuji, who took hold of the rope, untangling it from the mooring and tugging the boat closer.

The thieves clambered in, took hold of the oars, and set off for the distant shore. Sprays of silver and blue flickered through the air, arcing higher with each rowing motion.

_It's beautiful. But we can't linger. I've almost got them out of here. Then, we can--_

"J....Joker, what was that?" Ryuji's voice was shot through with anxiety, and Akira paused his rowing to listen.

_((Swsssssssssssssh))_

"There it is again! D'ya--"

"I hear it."

There was something brushing against the underside of the boat.

Nervously, Ann laughed. "I'm sure it's just seaweed or something, right?"

"We've travelled into water that's too deep for that." Yusuke murmured, craning his head to glance over the boat's starboard edge, into the murky depths.

_((Swwwwwwshhhhhhscraaaaaatch))_

The boat trembled.

"J.....Joker......?"

Voice hard, Akira shouted, "Everyone, row!! Quickly, row!!"

The thieves pushed their oars through the water in earnest, eyes panicked--but it was no good.

 _((Swwwshscrreeitchhhh))_  
_((Splashhhhhhh!!))_

A huge purple tentacle crested the water, wrapping itself around the vessel's rear.

**"Holy shit!!"**

Trapped, the group recoiled in horror as an enormous sea beast erupted from the depths, entangling itself in their craft. A mass of knotted brown and purple tissue spread itself along the length of the boat, and the wood creaked.

"We'll have to fight! Get ready!"

The thieves dropped their oars, rising. As Akira did so, he stumbled, one foot caught in the thick, rough rope that had tethered the boat to land.

_Shit!!_

He staggered to his knees, just in time to miss a vicious swipe from the kraken's enormous limb. His teammates, however, were not so lucky. Shrieks joining together into one cacophonous screech, the thieves were swept into the air, and--flung from the painting?!

A tear opened in the sky, and Akira watched in horror as they plummeted through the gap, into the slice of Madarame's palace that showed beyond.

_N...no!!_

He was alone with the beast.

Akira's breath caught in his chest as he watched the creature advance. He struggled frantically against the rope, finally kicking himself free.

_They're....they're gone--!_

_Please let them be okay. Please.... **OOF**!_

He'd caught a blow from one of the kraken's meaty tentacles, and the wind was knocked out of him by the wet, sickening smack.

Panicked, he cycled through the Personae he carried within him, desperate to find some way to turn the tide.

_Electricity would hurt it, but I'd risk electrocution myself, in this lake. Damn it! I.....I don't...._

Blindly, out of time to consider, he called out, **"Hua Po! Agi!"**

The creature hissed with rage at the attack, blackened paint burbling from its beaklike mouth.

_It did something, at least._

**"Again! Agi!"**

But the creature was too intelligent. It intercepted the fireball with one vicious limb, scattering the fire into sparks that fluttered down to land on Akira's boat, setting it alight.

Setting it alight.

_No. Shit!_

The fire caught unnaturally quickly, and Akira wondered,

_Wait, is there something flammable in brush cleanser? Oh, god--_

An acrid smell filled the air as the painted boat blistered, warping.

Akira's eyes widened in panic and remembrance at the caustic odor.

**_[[ .....the acrid smell of burning plastic, the-- ]]_ **

**_[[ .....Aki, where is your father?! He--]]_ **

Paint running, the boat dissolved into the water in muddy brown rivulets, until finally with a sick ((CRUNCH)) it weakened so thoroughly that the kraken's squeezing tentacle snapped it in two.

Akira's hands scrabbled for purchase on the remaining splintered wood, but each piece he grasped crumbled under his fingers. The surface of the water burnt like spilt oil, and the fumes dizzied him, making his mind spin. Black spots swam across his vision, and the water frothed from his frantic attempts to swim.

"Pah!! Ahh, shit, I--"

His head went under for a moment, only to resurge. He gasped for air, and then--

**((THWACK!!))**

Wet, slick, pain, raw, his cheek burned from the blow, as he sank, deeper and deeper, into the dark.

His eyes shot open as he struggled to hold his breath. His heavy coat was impossible to swim in, and, desperate, he tried to shuck it off, but the drenched fabric clung to his skin impossibly tight.

_Sh....._

_.....shit, I...._

Akira's lungs burned as his body turned in the water, his face to the surface.

He was sinking deeper, deeper, the light of the surface fading into a single golden spark, tinged crimson from the still-burning boat.

_No, I....._

Akira's chest was on fire. His vision pulsed red, and involuntarily, his lungs spasmed, letting in a rush of bitter paint-water.

_Choking, choking, I--drowning, no, I--_

Increasingly dazed, Akira was losing control of his body. Shuddering in the freezing depths, his chest heaved, trying to breathe, but only inhaling more of the deadly fluid.

_Fading...._

  
_....is this....._

Even the spark of sunlight above him seemed to be fading. A winding ribbon of pure blue shot through the fire and the blackened, burnt paint, and dark shadows dotted the surface, blotting out the sun.

_....what dying....feels....._

_....I...._

Akira closed his eyes.

_.....feel like I'm dissolving.....into blue......_

Just before losing consciousness, he felt a pressure on his wrist, a sense of force. Then.....white.

 

_........._

 

_....._

 

_.._

 

_((Oh my god, oh shit, An--Panther, is it working? Fox, is he--))_

A panicked voice reached his ears, like someone calling from the end of a tunnel. It echoed, bouncing around his head, and Akira was irritated.

_Shut up. Shut up, I...._

_....I was sleeping. I'm so tired, let me sleep._

A sensation, now. Something....hard, on his mouth, forcing.....forcing in......air? Air--?!

_?!?!?_

Akira's chest spasmed. He coughed, and his eyes fluttered open weakly as disgusting, brackish water poured from his lips. His throat burned, the ache growing with each ragged cough.

Above him, Ann's frightened face swam into focus. Mask discarded, hair tangled, lips wet and panting.

_Is that....what I felt?_

_Shit, I needed CPR?!_

Behind Ann, a drenched and ragged Yusuke panted, blue hair tangled and pasted to his cheek. He looked terrified, and exhausted.

"Panther!! He's okay?! Holy shit, shit, shit, Joker, dude, we....." Ryuji rushed to his side, kneeling on the--wait, where were they?!

A dazed glance.

Scaffolding. Paintings. Palace. They'd come out the other side of the last landscape, then.

"We thought we'd lost you for a second there, dude."

Yusuke's eyes met his own in that instant, and a single tear fell from the artist's eyes, glimmering as it trailed down to his jaw. The boy blinked, looking away to stare up at the ceiling.

Above him, tears in her eyes, Ann wiped her lips. "Oh, thank god. Aki--Joker, I was afraid....." Face crumpling, she punched him lightly in the chest. "Don't you ever go and do something like that again, you idiot! We were all terrified we wouldn't get back to you in time!"

Head beginning to swim less, Akira reached out silently, hoping for a hand up. Ryuji grasped his elbow, and Akira used the leverage to pull himself up to sit.

"I uh--" He tried to speak, but his throat still burned, and it devolved into more raw, hacking coughs. He paused, swallowing several times, then continued more carefully. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry guys. What happened?"

Ryuji answered him, angrily, "That monster tossed us out on our asses, man. We landed out here, and when we saw that you weren't with us...." Leather creaked as his friend clenched his fists, clearly distressed.

Ann continued for him, voice trembling. "We went back in after you, but the boat was gone, and there was no way across! We....for a horrible second, we thought...." Tears glimmered in her eyes, and she wiped them away, sniffling. "But, then Fox froze a path across the lake."

"I ran as fast as I could, man," Ryuji murmured, looking ashamed, "but I slipped on the ice. This fucking leg!" Angrily, he gripped his pants, and Akira shook his head, trying to reassure him.

"I know you did everything you-- **cough** \--you-- _ **cough**_ \--could. And I'm here now, so...."

Ann nodded. "Fox got to you in time. He dove into the water without a second thought, and dragged you out. You looked.....we.....we didn't think we'd made it. We carried you back here, and I--thank fucking god I took a babysitting course in middle school that taught CPR, neither of these guys knew how, and I...." She smiled weakly. "But it worked. You're okay."

"I-- **cough** \-- _ **cough**_ \--yeah, I am."

Ann and Ryuji looked alarmed as Akira pulled himself shakily up to stand. "Fox?"

The artist stared at him, clearly shaken. "Y...yes, Joker?"

Wavering on his feet, he forced himself to smile. He meant it, but it was difficult, when every inch of his body ached. "Thank you. Sounds like you saved my life."

Yusuke inhaled, closing his eyes. "Thankfully, yes. I....I'm so glad."

"Ha. Me, too."

Glancing at the others, he added, looking around at their position in the Palace, "So, uh.....it looks like we made it to the other side, in the end. Are we--" Another coughing fit frustrated him, and he half-gagged as more paint-streaked lake water forced its way up his throat. "Are we continuing on, then?"

"What are you, a moron?!" Ryuji sputtered.

Holding his hands up weakly, Akira tried to insist, "No, no, I-- **cough** \--I just, we just made it this far, and--"

Sternly, Ann spoke up, "No. I am completely over being in this fucking place today, and--and if you can't figure out why, you really are an idiot!"

"Yeah man. You've got friggin paint in your lungs. We're goin' back. No way in hell am I lettin' you fight more today."

_I mean.....it's not like I **wanted** to. Why is everyone jumping down my throat?!_

Flustered, Akira looked away from his teammates. "Okay, okay, I've got it. Let's-- **cough** \--let's go home."

"Good." Ryuji reached out a hand to help the still-sodden Yusuke off of his seat on the ground. "Fox, you make sure this guy actually rests, okay? No weird....night time gun shop jobs, or working in the coffee shop. Okay?"

Yusuke nodded grimly. "I'll make sure."

"And, hey," Ryuji continued, seeming abashed. "Thanks, again. The guy....the guy's my best friend, and you....I couldn't get to him, and I was real fuckin' scared. So, thanks."

"I....of course." Yusuke smiled, just-perceptibly.

_Well, if **half-drowning** was all it took to make those two get along better...._

Akira let out another series of ragged, burning coughs.

_Nope, nope, was going to say it was worth it, but you know what? This sucks. This sucks ass.  I'm going to be sneezing paint for a week, if any of this lingers after we leave the Palace._

_Still...._

He shifted his weight, as the strong arms of his friends joined together to help him to the nearest safe room.

_I'm lucky, aren't I?_


	27. Starry Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *insert dog + fetch 'no take, only throw' meme, smacking fists against a table like a petulant child*
> 
> "Pls bonding?"  
> "No plot! >:[ Only bonds!"
> 
> We'll move forward again, I swear it. Err...someday. ^^;

_[[ A young boy knelt on his bedroom floor, smiling. A worn tatami mat creaked beneath his knees as he reached for the box beneath his bed._

_(( Mom and dad will be gone for at least an hour! ))_

_He felt warm, happy, giddy with rare freedom, as he pulled the candle, the pack of matches, the dried straw that he'd plucked from the roadside on the walk home from his last day in middle school before summer break._

_Akira lit the candle with a single match. He watched the flame dance, crosslegged on the floor. It was pleasing, but....he knew it could be prettier._

_(( Maybe....a little more? ))_

_He passed a single stick through the fire, watching it curl and burn. He smiled. Then, frowned worriedly as he realized that the stick was smoking, and might set off a fire alarm. Rising, he opened the window on his bedroom's eastern wall. Long curtains fluttered in the breeze, as the sweet scent of his neighbor's flowering trees wafted into the small room._

_(( That should do it! ))_

_He returned to his fire, hypnotized by the harmless destruction. Straw after straw burned, reduced to ashes in his hands._

_After a life of enforced caution, this small rebellion was satisfying, mesmerizing, it was--_

_....._

_(( Aww, man. ))_

_......_

_(( No more straw.... ))_

_......_

_Akira frowned, tugging at wild, shoulder-length hair. He still had time before his parents' return, and wasn't ready to be done yet._

_(( Maybe I... ))_

_He glanced around his bedroom. Books--but he liked those too much. A frayed silver ribbon, from a 3rd grade science fair. He wasn't super attached to it, but would it really burn? A folder of practice quizzes he'd been made to bring home over break._

_(( Yeah! Perfect! ))_

_Nearly skipping, he retrieved a handful of papers, then returned to his "project." He rolled one, as thinly as he could, into a single long tube._

_(( It's almost a stick, isn't it? Close enough. ))_

_Excited, he edged the paper into the fire. It caught immediately, a plume of flame racing along the edge, devouring math that he totally understood anyway, (mostly)._

_(( Wow, this is better than the straw! I should have started with this--oh, uh oh, that's--ouch!!! Ow, ahh--!))_

_Unexpectedly, the fire had shot up the inside of the paper tube, singing his fingertips. Startled, Akira dropped the paper, which continued to burn on his floor. Alarmed, he looked around for something to put it out._

_(( Do I have water?! I should have--oh no-- ))_

_The frayed edges of his tatami floor were now smoking._

_(( No no no Mom and Dad, they're gonna kill me! But--but **I can fix it** , I can still-- ))_

_(( heart beating beating **beatingBEATING** ))_

_Panicked, Akira covered his hands with the sleeve of his hoodie and tried to pat away the sparks, but gasped at the heat. Flailing in surprise, he stumbled backward, knocking his elbow against the still-lit pillar candle._

_Unseen by Akira, who was entirely focused on his still-smoking floor, the candle rolled away, carrying its flame toward the window on his room's northern wall._

_Toward the curtains._

**_Akira's voice in reality called out to his former self._ **

**_"No! No, see it, see it, look!!"_ **

_Standing outside his younger self, he watched helplessly. The panic. The realization. The blocked bedroom door. The choking black smoke, as a shelf-full of childhood possessions began to melt. The coughing, the tears, as a boy tried, too late, to smother fire with a worn, much-loved quilt. The scent of his own singed hair that somehow, miraculously, did not fully catch flame. The barefooted escape, through the open eastern window._

**_Too late. Always too late. I can never stop it. Never change it. The day that I destroyed my own life._ **

_He watched his bedroom, consumed in flame, and collapsed in the center of it all. Through the window, around the creaking and snapping and cracking of the fire, he heard a car door slam, and let out a pitiful choked wail, knowing what was coming next in this memory._

**_(( If I'd have known...how it would all turn out.... ))_ **

_"Aki, where is your father?! He....."_

_"But you both left--"_

_"No, he was napping, so I Ieft him behind today! AKI, TELL ME WHAT--"_

_He knew what came next. What always came next. The sirens. The fighting. The struggle against strange men in heavy, flameproof canvas, as his own father's hideous screams joined the groan of warping wood, the crackling of fire, in the muggy summer air._

_Within the room, in his own dream, Akira saw nothing but flames and shuddering, inky smoke. Some nights, he saw his father burn, but tonight.....not tonight._

_He choked, struggling for air, eyes burning, face streaming with blackened tears._

**_(( If I'd known....if I'd been able to predict the reality I'd created for myself.... ))_ **

**_(( I'd have....I think I'd have.... ))_ **

_With trembling fingers, he shut the window. He stayed._

_He'd hoped to escape the words, but the echoes of his younger self's grief still reached him, through the eerie logic of dreams._

**_"I'm sorry."_ **

_Flames licked his ankles as he replied,_

**_(( I should have put out those first sparks with my own bare hands.... ))_ **

**_"I'm so_ sorry _!!"_**

_Searing, mindless, white-hot pain enveloped his body, as he continued, falling to his knees just as the charred remnants of his ceiling crashed around him,_

**_(( Even if it burned me up... ))_ **

**_"I'M SORRY!"_ **

_He lost himself to a place beyond pain, as he closed his eyes to sleep, the roar of destruction in his ears._

**_(( Even if it killed me, it would have been--I--what?! ))_ **

_A rumble drowned out the crackle of both the fire and his own flesh. The room shook, exposed beams crashing, sparks flying into his eyes._

_This was--what was this?!_

_An earthquake? A tsunami? A bomb? The room filled with blinding white, broken only by a silent wave of force that spread a flurry of blackened ashes in its wake._

_He'd had this dream a thousand times, but this was new._

_He didn't like new._

_Akira felt a hand, heavy, on his shoulder. As the room shook, he shook with it, and his world tilted._

**_(( No, no, I--this is the way it has to be, no-- ))_ **

_He lashed out in surprise, and--! ]]_

  
....made solid, painful contact. In reality.

_Heart beating beating beating beatingbeatingbeating_

Akira's fist stung.

Heart pounding and night-blind, Akira grabbed his phone and illuminated the screen for light. The spindly frame towering above him, blinking in the sudden wash of blue light, licking the corner of his now-bloody mouth, it was--

"Y--Yusuke?! What in the world?!"

"Ah....uh.....ouch."

Yusuke prodded his lip gingerly, fingertips coming away bloodied. The artist's mouth reddened before his eyes, and Akira's heart twisted with guilt. His aching knuckles....

He stared at his own fist, horrified, slowly unbending the fingers he had apparently crushed into his teammate's face. Then, waking further and becoming more conscious of reality, he pressed that hand into his own face, desperate to hide the tears he must have cried in the night. His skin was sticky, the taste of salt running into his mouth through crumpled, cringing lips.

_What did I do...? I...._

_I didn't mean to--_

Face now pressed into his knees, he breathed a shaky apology. "Shit. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Yusuke. What--I--I don't know what's happening."

_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

  
_[[ A short time previous....._

_A storm was slowly raging outside, somewhat uncharacteristic for the time of year. Tree branches scraped the outer walls of the cafe, casting eerie, wavering stripes when paired with flashing lightning. Yusuke felt grateful that they'd been able to drag Akira home before it had truly set in._

_The boy was sleeping now; had been for quite some time, so far as Yusuke knew. But as for himself....._

_Yusuke sat, hunched on his bed, uncrumpling paper in the dark. Peering from between his hands was one dark eye, staring. Unreadable. But, not unapproachable. The mysterious conundrum he'd found in his erstwhile model. At least, that's what he had hoped to capture. But, this...he'd failed, that day._

_(( And I continue to fail to do him justice. ))_

_(( **My** plan, to walk through paintings, born half from selfish fascination. **My** former sensei's Palace. I nearly.... ))_

_Yusuke felt a strange sense of grief rising in his chest and froze, forcing it down. Part of him knew that here, away from Madarame, he was now allowed the luxury of strong emotion._

_But it had been so long._

_Darkly, he suspected that once unleashed, emotion would engulf him so thoroughly that he would be entirely overpowered. Better to not risk it....He'd...he'd drown in it._

_(( Still. Yes, still.... ))_

_Calmer now, he laid his own ruined sketches out on his bedspread, flattening them with one cold palm. Now, out of the moment, away from his former intense **need** to push through to create an artwork on a deadline, he could see what he'd missed that day. The defensive set to the shoulders. The distance. The....fear._

_(( To think, for Madarame, I became someone who would ignore such discomfort. Sensei......I.... ))_

_He gritted his teeth. He had a part to play in this, himself, but his former teacher's guilt was unmistakable. Both in reality, and in the Palace of his heart._

_(( I won't let him tarnish another thing that I hold dear. He almost...he almost took **him** , too. My....my first friend, in so long. ))_

_Yusuke felt cold, recalling the feel of Akira's limp body as he'd run with him across the ice, the shouts of their friends ringing hollowly in his ears. His pale mouth, trails of filthy paint-water trickling from slack lips._

_And in the lake....Yusuke hadn't admitted to Akira or the others how close their leader had come to slipping through his fingers and into the forever-dark._

_He stared at his bandaged fingers, wincing._

_(( These hands...what good are they, now? ))_

_Creating art for Madarame had always caused him a certain amount of anguish, but before his encounter with the Phantom Thieves he'd been able to misplace it. To deny it. Now, however...._

_(( Sometimes I wonder if I ever knew how to do this just for myself. Perhaps it would be better if these never healed. I know that....is a morbid thought, but I---what was **that**?! ))_

_Yusuke froze at an unexpected sound from the fringes of the darkened attic. He'd thought himself essentially alone._

_He listened, but heard nothing._

_(( Was it merely the storm? ))_

_Just as he allowed himself to relax-- **there! There it is again!**_

_"...aaaah.....haaaaa...... **sob**....."_

_Then--a pair of thuds, ((pat-pat)), a scattering of soft footsteps. The whisper of a curtain as Morgana poked his head through, meeting Yusuke's startled glance._

_Curious eyes flashed in concert with another jagged spike of lightning. "So you're up too, huh? You guys moved the couch, so now this is a little awkward for me."_

_Seeing a cat's face grimace was a unique experience. "I try to sleep at the end of Akira's bed, but on nights like this it's impossible."_

_"Nights....like this?"_

_Another weak cry wavered from the other end of the attic. Yusuke's heart squeezed in his chest. If he'd been anywhere else--or if he'd been alone--he'd have thought it was the meek whimper of a mournful spirit._

_(( Akira....? ))_

_Morgana's white-tipped ears twitched in the direction of the main part of the attic, clearly hearing the same sad sound. "I don't know what the guy dreams about, but....sometimes his sleep isn't restful. For either of us."_

_The attic creaked as wind relentlessly gusted outside, shaking the glass of the windows._

_"I...I see."_

_Morgana stared into a shadowed corner, tail slithering sinuously on the ground behind him, just perceptible in the darkness. "Can I....the couch, can I still....?"_

_(( Oh. ))_

_"Of course. Consider it yours any night you should require it. I take it you're troubled in this way.....often?"_

_Thunder rumbled, three heartbeats after a flash of lighting that had illuminated their cat-shaped companion starkly, betraying a nearly defeated posture. Reflective blue eyes were blown wide as the darkness spread itself around him again after the flash, and Yusuke was reminded that though Morgana looked like an animal and spoke like a human, who he truly was--what shape his heart took--these things were still a mystery._

_"Yeah. I **am** troubled by it. But...." Too-bright eyes looked away with a strange sense of regret. "Nevermind. 'Night, Yusuke."_

_As Morgana slunk toward the couch through the blackened night, wind continued to gust, rattling shutters and keening mournfully._

**_\--!_ **

_(( Was that **all** the wind? .....No. ))_

_Akira continued to whimper in the night, with the plaintive voice of someone who was utterly, wholly alone._

_Finally, Yusuke stood. He was unsure of what he should do, but..._

_(( I cannot do **nothing**. ))_

_Slowly, he pushed through his curtains, into Akira's side of the attic. At first, he could only make out a vague, dark lump in the corner. He knew well enough that this was the location of the bed, however, and continued._

_Another flash of lightning, and Yusuke nearly cried out at the face it illuminated. Cheeks wet with glimmering tears, Akira seemed to be in pain. Lips twisted, eyes squeezed shut, the boy writhed, hair pasted to his forehead in a cold sweat._

_(( Is he...suffering even in his sleep, from near-drowning?! He'd insisted that exiting the Palace had restored him! But.... ))_

_As he watched Akira twist in his bed, Yusuke recalled Morgana's words._

_(( He evidently has experienced this before. I....should I wake him? Would that be improper? I don't know at all what I should do in this situation. ))_

_Uncertainly, Yusuke reached out a single thin hand, placing it on Akira's shoulder._

_No response._

_Emboldened by the fact that there had, at least, not been a **negative** reaction, Yusuke shook his shoulder more vigorously._

_"Akira? Akira, I-- **AAAAAUGHHH** "_

_In a shocking flash Akira had stiffened, then flailed out with a fist that must have been forged from pure iron. Stunned, Yusuke prodded his stinging lip with his tongue._

_(( He....he struck me! I...perhaps I deserved that. ))_

_The flash of light from a phone illuminated a pair of bleary, wavering faces, one clutching a swiftly-reddening mouth. Akira's eyes were rimmed with red, filled with horror and regret._

_"Y--Yusuke?! What in the world?!"_

_The faintest taste of blood made its way past Yusuke's lips. He fingered them, wincing._

_"Ah....uh.....ouch."_

_Akira stared at his own fist, then slowly unclenched it, purposefully, like an unspoken apology for violence._

_Shadowed eyes flickered with an emotion Yusuke couldn't place, and before he could try to parse it out further, Akira buried his face in his hand._

_"Shit. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Yusuke. What--I--I don't know what's happening."_

_"It was...I apologize for intruding. You seemed to be in distress, and I--"_

_"Distress...?" the dark-haired boy murmured, the motion of his lips barely visible from between wavering fingers._

_"It was....you were....dreaming? You cried out, in your sleep. So I tried to awaken you." Yusuke cringed in embarrassment. He hadn't had a plan for how this would go, precisely...but this was certainly not an expected outcome. "Are you in pain?"_

_" **Me** in pain? You're the one who I...." Hunched shoulders released, and Akira lifted his chin from his knees to frown at Yusuke crookedly. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I didn't mean to. I....I didn't know that I made noise, in the night."_

_"Shit, I..." Akira's lips hardened as he looked away. "I'm the worst roommate, huh? I wake you up, and when you try to help, I freaking hit you. Yusuke, I'm so sorry."_

_His face crumpled, and Yusuke feared that his friend was about to add fresh tears to those already on his cheeks._

_Lowering himself to sit on the end of Akira's bed, Yusuke shook his head. "No, I....I was awake, so don't trouble yourself over my sleep. And as for the rest?" He glanced at the blood on his own fingertips, then shut his eyes. "I forgive you."_

_"But, I--there's no excuse--!" The bed creaked, and Yusuke looked over to see Akira clenching his bedsheets, clearly distressed._

_"I promise. You are truly forgiven."_

_Silence for a moment. Then, quietly, so quiet that Yusuke could barely hear the word over the murmur of the wind, Akira whispered miserably, "....Okay."_

_They sat together, then, regarding each other in the dark. Through the attic window, Yusuke watched the last gasps of the storm, rain no longer battering the midnight streets. Finally, as a single star emerged from the grief-stained sky, he broke the silence._

_"Akira. Is there....anything that I can do for you right now?"_

_Too quickly, his friend replied, "No."_

_A beat._

_More timidly, this time. "M...maybe." Akira stared over at him, and Yusuke's heart twisted at the simple longing he saw written on his friend's face. "I don't want to talk. But will you? ...Talk?"_

_(( "Talk"....? ))_

_(( If that is....what will help him? ))_

_He felt....flummoxed by the request. But, he had asked, and he had received a reply. What else was he to do?_

_".....I'm afraid you'll have to be satisfied with what I know well. Is that....acceptable to you?"_

_Akira nodded._

_"...Very well."  Yusuke began, lowly, into the dark._

_" 'This morning I saw the country from my window a long time before sunrise, with nothing but the morning star, which looked very big.' This, Van Gogh wrote to his brother of the view from his window in the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum in 1888._

_"By all accounts, to most it would not have been much of a view, obscured by thick iron bars. I think that I, if struck by the fever to create in such a place, would have composed something meant to channel a feeling of restriction, or grief, or isolation. But, he....."_

_Yusuke hesitated, searching for adequate words._

_"Van Gogh used his art, his inspiration, to remove those bars. The beauty he then found without...it not only freed the artist himself in those moments, but--and in this I am confident--has freed the spirits of millions with its presence. I know this because I, myself...well, allow me to tell you the story."_

_The room was eerily silent as he paused-- the storm had passed, it appeared. From the corner of his eye, Yusuke could see that Akira was still listening, but was, at least, now laying calmly._

_"I remember, when I was very small, first seeing something that I truly recognized as art. This is....also one of my few true memories of my mother._

_"I must have been only three or four years old at the time. I...don't remember her face. But I remember the feeling of reverence in her voice, as she told me to look not just with my eyes, but with my soul as well._

_"The Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum had received a traveling Van Gogh exhibition. In retrospect, I must assume that much of what was on display were quality reproductions--those establishments who do display his work are often, understandably, loathe to part with it. But, to a child.....well, I was not discerning enough at that age to notice such a thing."_

_A cough that might, nearly, have been a laugh. Akira murmured tiredly, "Somehow I imagined you springing from the womb a fully-fledged art aficionado, paintbrush clutched in your tiny hand. How dare you rid me of that delusion."_

_(( Now, wouldn't **that** have been a sight? ))_

_Yusuke smiled wryly. "Indeed. That **would** have been quite a feat. But, alas, my childhood self shall have to disappoint you._

_"As we walked the halls of the exhibit, I recall a sense of dismay. 'Look with your soul.' I did not want to disappoint her, but I had no way of knowing what I was meant to do with those words. But, then...._

_"There it was. So much larger than life. Larger than **me**. I remember feeling that I'd be swallowed by blue, that I could join the stars themselves, if I could only get close enough. Err...." He coughed. "Much to the distress of the museum staff, I'm afraid."_

_"Van Gogh's 'Starry Night.' He painted the view from between the bars of an asylum window, but managed to channel emotion through it, across more than a century, to fill my childish heart with such expansiveness, such wonder--!_

_" 'Through the iron-barred window. I can see an enclosed square of wheat...above which, in the morning, I watch the sun rise in all its glory.'  He wrote these words as well, to his brother Theo._

_"To be able to find the beauty of the world, where all others would find grief. If I can create such a thing myself, even once, even for one moment, I think I will die happy."_

_Yusuke picked at his own bandaged fingers, then, recalling his earlier morbidity._

_(( I asked myself 'why,' then. Why I was given these useless hands. But, thanks to him...I've been reminded of what I'd hoped for, in the beginning of my journey. ))_

_"Sometimes I visit the local planetarium to try to recapture that awe, with the view of our ever-expansive universe. The same awe that I shared with a man who died a century ago. And....and to recall the memories of my mother."_

_"Perhaps...someday we can go there together. I'd....I'd like to show you," Yusuke whispered, into a silent night. He was met by nothing more than the sound of gentle breathing._

_"Akira?"_

_Moonlight lay on the boy's tear-puffy face, wavy hair plastered to his forehead. But, he'd fallen asleep with the smallest smile on his lips._

_(( I wonder....how much of that did he actually hear? Still, I hope somehow that I was helpful. That my memories carried him to safer dreams. ))_

_As Yusuke returned to bed, sheets rustling, Morgana mumbled sleepily from the couch, "You're a good friend, you know."_

_"I don't know about that. But I'm trying. I want to be."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it would be 99.9% impossible to have a Yusuke romance if you did not genuinely crave art monologues, lmao.


	28. Fragile Creatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaalmost done with Madarame's arc. 
> 
> The boys have a ~moment~
> 
> Yusuke finally goes to the doctor! 
> 
> Ughhh this chapter is so long, but it is all one day, so I didn't want to split it up.

"Wow, Yusuke. That is _so_ much better than what Ryuji made last month. Guess it pays to have an artist on the team, huh?" Ann craned over Yusuke's shoulder as he worked at Akira's desk, ignoring Ryuji's scowl as he grumped, " _What_ did you just say?!"

"Ryuji's card was fine, Ann. Besides, can we complain about the results?" Akira lounged back on his bed, arms crossed behind his head. Privately, he agreed, but he'd never beat Ryuji down that way.

"I guess you're right...." Ann sighed. She reached around Yusuke, fingers brushing the edge of a completed card to get a better look, only to have her hand batted away by the frazzled looking artist.

" _Must_ you breathe down my neck in such a manner?!" the boy snapped, shoulders hunched.

"You want me to.....stop breathing....?"

"Yes, that would be ideal. Or, if you _must_ do so, do it elsewhere." He shooed her vigorously with one ink-stained hand. At the motion, Ann backed away in surprise, tipping over a stack of pamphlets on Madarame's works and exhibitions that Yusuke had been snipping letters from with a pair of her old eyebrow scissors.

Yusuke hissed in irritation, flinging the tweezers (also Ann's, and now tacky with adhesive) he'd been using for letter placement to the attic's worn wooden floor.

"Shit, man!" Ryuji shouted in surprise, as the tiny implements bounced off of his sneaker.

Akira sat up anxiously, eyeing what he assumed was a forthcoming explosion.

From the cafe below, Sojiro bellowed, **"Keep it down up there, or take it somewhere else! I'm trying to run a business here!"** As a group, the thieves cringed.

_Yusuke's really on edge._

_But can I blame him? Madarame is... **was**....essentially a parent to him._

"I'm sorry, Yusuke. I--this is harder work than it looks, right? I'll just pick these up and leave you be," Ann murmured in a placating tone.

Akira expected his roommate to bite again, but was surprised to see him freeze, then breathe deeply, his features settling once again into their characteristic placidity.

_How does he **do** that? I'm kind of jealous._

Yusuke shook his head, glancing down at the scattered pamphlets as Ann knelt to gather them. Spindly legs stretched as he rose to recover the tweezers he had thrown in anger. "No, I....my apologies. I was unduly harsh. Perhaps I need a break from this. Would that be agreeable to you all?"

Ryuji stretched his arms over his head happily, sighing. "Sounds great, man. I could go for a walk." He glanced over at Akira. As his face turned out of view of the others, his features subtly changing to indicate pleading.

_I guess we've all been cooped up in here for too long. Maybe the paint and glue fumes are getting to our heads._

"Sounds good to me. How about it, guys? Fresh air?"

Yusuke frowned, eyes darting to his unfinished project. At first, Akira thought he was going to argue. But, finally, he bowed his head slightly in agreement. "I....I could do that. There's a place I like to go when I find myself in a rut. It's nearby. If you would all help me to clear these things up first, I will lead the way."

The thieves quickly stashed their card-making supplies in a crate beneath Akira's bed, then tromped downstairs as a group. As Akira stepped down into the main cafe, the doorbell jingled.

By habit, Sakura called out, "Welcome!"

When the man received no greeting in return, he looked up, and Akira was startled to see the change in his face. He'd never seen his guardian look this ruffled before. "You....? What....will you have?" Sakura asked, a hint of barely-concealed suspicion in his voice.

Holding the thieves back in the staircase with one arm, Akira eyed the newcomer anxiously. The middle-aged man who stood in Leblanc's doorway was definitely not one of Boss's regulars.

The guy was paunchy, and was perhaps younger than he'd appear at first glance--an unhealthy lifestyle aging his face prematurely. Striding heavily toward Sakura, he then leaned over the counter, smudging a previously pristine row of water glasses by running a grubby hand along them idly. "The smell of this place....It's her curry, isn't it? You still haven't gotten over her, huh?"

_' **Her** curry'? Who is this guy?_

".......your order?" Sakura was, apparently, ignoring the bait. Still, Akira could read his guardian's face well enough by now to tell that the man was thrown off, and very unhappy with this interloper's presence. Akira geared himself up to intervene somehow, but before he could act, the stranger left on his own.

"Nah, nothing today. I just had to see your little shop for myself, once I heard of it. But don't worry. I'll be back, I'm sure."

The bell jingled, and their little bubble of safety reclosed itself, having expelled the virus. For now, at least.

_That was definitely odd. Makes me realize how little I really know about Sakura-san. I've never even seen the inside of his house, after all._

The danger, apparently, having dissipated, Akira lowered his arm, allowing his teammates to stream into the cafe.

Ducking behind the counter, he said, quietly, "Boss?"

Distractedly, Sakura muttered, "Hm? Oh, it's you kids. You saw that, huh?" He frowned unhappily.

Akira nodded. "He seemed suspicious."

"Hmph. Well you've got a good eye, I'll give you that. But forget about it. You kids go off and have your fun, or whatever it is you do, okay?" Sakura chuckled gruffly, ruffling Akira's hair. He was clearly trying to brush him off and put the moment behind him.

_I want to know more. But it's not like I can **make** him tell me about it._

"Okay, Boss. We're heading out for a bit. Do you mind if I make some coffee?"

Sakura grunted affirmatively. "There's a thermos or two in that high cupboard." Sternly, he added, "You be sure to bring those back though, you hear? You break them, you're buying me new ones."

"Got it. I'll take care of them."

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

_Leaning against a shady tree in Inokashira Park, Ann breathed a sigh of relief. The fresh air of the riverside park was vastly better than that attic. She'd hoped that the air purifier would better the air quality up there, but maybe she and Ryuji hadn't bought one of a high enough caliber?_

_(( I should have checked reviews online.... ))_

_She glanced over at her friends, who were lounging in the sun a few feet away, discussing their most recent trip into Madarame's Palace._

_(( Things got pretty tense in the attic. I guess that's my fault, though. I hadn't realized that Yusuke actually understood the concept of personal space. ))_

_She smiled wryly._

_(( Maybe he only does when he's in his 'art zone.' Oh well. Everyone's getting along better now. ))_

_Ryuji rolled over, grass in his hair, and continued what he'd been saying. "We're lucky you know your art shit, man, or that maze would have been impossible. All those weirdo Sayumi clones looked the same to me!"_

_"Sayu **ri**." Yusuke corrected, though not as sternly as he might have even a week ago. Even Ann had noticed that they'd been getting along better since Yusuke had helped them save Akira from that oil painting._

_(( Ryuji's really grown since middle school. Who'd have thought that booger-faced kid would have grown into this much confidence? ))_

_As Akira laughed, agreeing that they were lucky to have someone with an eye for detail, Ryuji's face brightened, and Ann felt warmth blossom in her chest. It had been a long time since she'd had a group of friends like this. The bantering, the bickering....looking out for each other. It was new, and something she hadn't known she needed until it had fallen into her lap._

_(( Maybe Ryuji's confidence is a more recent thing. Akira has really brought us all together, after all. **Yusuke** definitely didn't give me the 'team player' vibe, but here he is, covered in grass stains like the rest of us. ))_

_As Ryuji and Yusuke began to grumble together about what, exactly, constituted "art shit," Ann waved to get Akira's attention. Seeing her, he smiled, then scooted over crab-like to sit beside her under the tree. Somehow, the dark-haired boy made even **that** seem graceful._

_A slim hand passed her the dregs of the coffee he'd made, in a pale pink flower-patterned thermos, and she accepted gratefully. Akira's coffee really **was** good._

_(( Wish it was sweetened, though. ))_

_"Hey, what's up? Enjoying the shade?" He looked up, face dappled by the shadows of a thousand green leaves filtering the late afternoon sun._

_"Yeah, I am. I feel like I haven't had the chance to just....sit like this in forever." Cool grey eyes met hers, giving Ann his full attention, and she felt compelled to elaborate. "I'm always on the go, and **always** in the city. Whether it is school, a modeling shoot, or handling my parent's affairs when they are overseas....it's always something, you know? And now with our, uh....extra activities...that doesn't leave much time to simply enjoy a gorgeous day."_

_"Yeah. I can understand that."_

_Like always, Ann found herself frustrated by how little their leader shared of his own thoughts. Of himself._

_She tried again._

_"I've just wanted to say--you, Ryuji, Yusuke, Morgana....you've all become the best part of my life. Well, along with Shiho, of course."_

_Dry grass crunched as he settled in against the tree trunk. He closed his eyes and smiled gently. "I feel the same way."_

_"But...." She turned to face him, and he tilted his head, eyebrows raised in curiosity as she clearly had something more serious to ask. "You're going back to your old town in a year...aren't you?"_

_Something undefinable flashed through Akira's eyes. Ann didn't miss the way he nonchalantly wriggled his hands into the pockets of his grey hoodie. Though he continued to smile, she wondered..._

_(( It's strained, now. What did I say? ))_

_Ann didn't want to make him uncomfortable...but she was determined to learn **something** today._

_"Is that what you want? To go home?"_

_"I....ha." Akira's voice had taken on an unnaturally light tone. Ann could recognize bad acting when she saw it, and stifled a frown. "I mean, it isn't like I have a choice in the matter, so why worry about what I want?"_

_He bowed his head, and Ann could no longer see his eyes, lost in fluffy black hair. "I'll do what I have to do when the time comes. What's the malaphor? 'Burn that bridge when I come to it?' " He laughed, and it **seemed** genuine._

_(( Maybe I'm reading too deeply into things. I just...I want to know why he thought that attic was okay. Any person I know--literally anyone--would have been pissed to have to stay somewhere like that. ))_

_(( But maybe he is just genuinely easy-going? Or just thinks, 'Hey, it's better than juvenile hall!'? Still...what is he going back to? ))_

_Pushing her questions aside for the moment out of fear of scaring him away, Ann turned the conversation to her own feelings. "I guess that makes sense. It is just hard to wrap my head around the idea that this isn't...permanent? I already feel like you've been in my life forever."_

_"Forever...." Akira's forced joviality slipped away. "I know what you mean."_

_(( I'm missing something. I **know** I'm missing something. Why is he so...sad? ))_

_Clasping at the frayed ends of his peace, Ann piped up, a hint of confusion in her voice, "But, we'll keep in contact, yeah? You moving back....you know that doesn't mean goodbye for us all." She laughed. "We're 'Gen Z,' isn't that right? Our whole lives are online."_

_The end of the string slipped through her grasp. Akira faltered, as the shadow of a passing cloud darkened his face. "That's true. I don't know. I'm not a huge fan of having an....internet presence."_

_(( I messed up, huh? I shouldn't have forgotten. ))_

_"But..." He looked over, smiling brightly in a way that did not reach his eyes, and Ann shivered in the sudden cloudy gloom. "I'm sure we'll find a way."_

_(( Why do I feel like I failed here? I-- ))_

_"Hey, Ann! I'm takin' off. Wanna walk back to the station with me?" Ryuji waved at her from the crest of a grassy hill, gesturing toward the street._

_"Just you? Did we...." Confused, she glanced at Yusuke, who was still seated by the riverbank, toying idly with a pile of cattails he'd collected. "....decide we were done for the day?"_

_The blue-haired boy nodded, throwing a reed into the water. It splashed, then floated away. "Yes. Ryuji has lectured me on the importance of 'managing stamina and personal expectations,' and, while his own experience was born from physical pursuits, I can see its relevance in my own work."_

_Ryuji laughed from his perch above them. "Man, that's a friggin flowery way of saying, 'I'm burnt out as shit, and need to take a break before I stab my friends with scissors.' But yeah, the sun's goin' down, this guy's decided to call it a day, and I've got to do some stuff for my ma tonight. Anyway, you comin'?"_

_The taste of defeat was bitter in her mouth, but Ann felt she needed to walk away for right now and regroup._

_(( I'm **going** to pry some real background out of Akira eventually, though. ))_

_Her goodbye wave was met by its mirror image beneath the tree, as Akira smiled his familiar, comforting smile. "See ya."_

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Akira released one hidden clenched fist as Ann and Ryuji's backs receded into the distance.

_Forever, huh? Maybe... **I'm** the one who needs to start 'managing expectations.'_

He stared out over the water, breathing in the scent of algae and dark river soil carried over by the breeze. It almost smelled like home. The better parts of it, anyway.

As he watched, Yusuke continued to toss stray reeds into the river. The artist's hair waved loosely in the breeze, mimicking the ripples of water he created.

(( Plunk ))

(( Plunk ))

....

(( Plunk ))

The wind tossed one away, carrying it further downstream into the shadow of a bridge. Sighing, Akira stretched his legs, then rose to join Yusuke by the water's edge. He had something he'd been planning to say, after all, and this seemed as good a moment as any. He sat down in the damp earth.

"I....Yusuke, I'm going to say something, and I need you to let me say it."

Yusuke looked momentarily startled, still grasping a cattail in one hand. Akira noted that his bandages were unravelling, caked with river water and pollen. The skin beneath looked raw, but healed. He smiled a little with relief at the latter.

"Oh. Yes, of course, speak freely, Akira." The sound of his name on the other boy's lips both emboldened and unnerved him. This dichotomy worsened as the artist leaned away from his riverside perch to focus the entirety of his unsettlingly large well of attention on him.

Akira shivered slightly at the feeling of his friend's sharp features fixed wholly on his own. His dark eyes leveled with Akira's, seeming to pierce him completely.

_He's...a lot._

_I thought I was prepared, but...._

He broke eye contact and stared ahead, eyeing a horde of geese as they settled into the river before them.

_Damn it, Akira, just start already._

He glanced over at Yusuke, expecting impatience, but was met with the same even, expectant stare.

_Now._

Akira took a deep breath, and began as firmly as he could. "Yusuke, I....I'm worried about you. And what you eat. Or, well, what you don't eat."

_I sound more like a social worker than a friend._

"I know that there is only so much I can do to help, but...I know there must be something. Is it money? If it's money....you know we have team funds, right? Or....or I can cook for you?"

_That wasn't any better._

_Come **on**. This is Yusuke. You don't have to be so stiff, Akira!_

He ripped up a handful of grass in frustration, then, embarrassed, released it and left his hand buried in the remaining turf.

"I'm sorry. I know that this is awkward, and I....I'm no good at this shit. But I have to do something. You don't eat. You're so thin, I know my doctor would be concerned."

_I can't.....I won't let him fade into nothing._

Akira's voice hardened with passion. His hands dug further into the dirt at his sides, as though doing so would help him hold onto his resolve. "We might be the only people looking out for you right now, but if we are, I want to have that count for something. We count on you, Yusuke. Please, let yourself count on us. Life doesn't have to stay the way it was when you lived with Madarame."

Akira darkly realized the humor in giving Yusuke that final piece of advice when it was something he couldn't ever feel true for himself.

_But Yusuke is different._

_He really has escaped. He'll never have to go back.  We're making sure of that now._

"Ah.." He coughed self-consciously. "I know that was a lot. Thank you for listening. What do you...?" He trailed off, monologue complete. Now, he turned to study his friend's face anxiously, waiting for an answer.

Yusuke looked...stunned. For a horrible moment, Akira feared that he had only succeeded in deeply offending his friend. Then, Yusuke raised his eyes to the heavens and blinked hard several times.

_Are those tears? Did I go too far?_

_Definitely tears. I never know when to stop, should I--_

Yusuke interrupted Akira's spiralling thoughts to speak, quietly, to the deepening purple sky. "I...had always been told, and fully believed, that a certain....asceticism....was necessary to live the life of a true artist. But now, sometimes, I wonder..."

The blue-haired boy squeezed his eyes shut viciously for several breaths, chewing a lip, before continuing. "I see my classmates living lifestyles that are entirely different from my own, but I'd never dream of classifying them as "less than" true artists because of it."

A shuddering sigh. "Akira..." the boy's deep-set eyes were open now, fixed on his own and piercing, searching, hurting. "...have you ever been told something so often and so thoroughly that it became a Truth for you? A Truth you believed in so strongly that it became a foundation of your world...and then had to reevaluate that Truth?"

_[[ " **No** , Aki!" A hard hand crushed a tinier one mercilessly. "We don't talk to strangers. People outside our family aren't safe." ]]_

"Have you had to...try to parse out the true reason that that false Truth, that rule for living, had been drilled into your head and heart?"

_[[ "Mom.....what is this?"_

_Akira clutched a bank statement in a single trembling hand. He hadn't meant to open it. Not...not really. But now....what he'd seen couldn't be unseen._

_The paper was clawed out of his hands, crumpled viciously, and thrown in the trash. "How dare you open my mail?! And for something that doesn't concern you in the least!"_

_Heart thudding so hard that he felt he might faint, Akira scrabbled for courage. "But....but it **does** concern me. Doesn't it? You've said, these past two years, that I had to help pay off dad's medical bills, but--"_

_His mother regarded him with a disgusted sneer, like what he was saying made him lower than the lowest insect she could have scraped off of her heels. "And you don't think that your father also deserves comfort? Security, for his pain and suffering? After what **you** did to him, are you actually arguing about your penance?"_

_Akira felt bile rise in his throat as the room spun._

_(( No, no, no, I--I know what I did, I-- ))_

_(( But she kept telling me--she always said, that "job" was only until his medical bills were paid! And....and something to make up for the temporary loss of his income. This-- ))_

_(( The bill must have been paid off at least a year ago. )) ]]_

  
A heavy sadness settled into Akira's eyes. "Yeah, Yusuke. I think I know just what you mean. I'm sorry. It is a sad and bizarre thing, isn't it? Something that causes...genuine grief to go through. Loss of a so-called truth is still loss."

Blue hair bobbed in a small nod of assent. Shakily, Yusuke went on. "I'm starting to realize, conceptually, that I, frankly, starved all these years to fatten Sens--er--Madarame's bottom line. But, still...." Yusuke stared at his hands, clenched in his lap. "There's an equal part of me that stubbornly believes in that rule with all of my heart, that feels such shame for giving in to material needs and desires. How do I find my own truth?"

Akira paused in thought.

_How do I help him when I can barely help myself?_

_There has to be something I can say._

_He's different from me, in so many beautiful ways. I don't always understand him, but, even so....Yusuke doesn't deserve to live with this pain._

Firmly, as though he were sure, he began. "It is hard, Yusuke. But...I think you had a clue earlier."

Dark eyes widened. "Oh?"

"You said...you wouldn't judge your fellow classmates for not denying themselves. You'd still call them true artists. Maybe...when you evaluate a rule like this, ask yourself, would I expect my peers to follow this rule? Would I expect an expert I respect to follow this rule in order to keep my respect?"

Akira placed a hand gently on one of Yusuke's, which were still twisting anxiously in his lap. "Would I want a dear friend I care about to follow this rule?"

_Crap, was that too--? I just want him to know that I..._

Yusuke's hands stilled under Akira's gentle touch, and his breaths came more slowly, like someone approaching a fragile creature easily frightened away forever with one misstep. His brow furrowed, gears in his mind clearly turning. Finally, he asked quietly, "Does that...work for you?"

_Time to be honest._

Akira shook his head slightly. "Not always." A pause. A breath. "Not always, but sometimes. And I tell myself that sometimes is enough. Be easy on yourself Yusuke." He raised his head to watch Yusuke's reaction.

_Is this alright?_

A small nod. A slender smile that genuinely reached his eyes. "Thank you. That...I can try."

Yusuke's fingers stirred beneath Akira's, and now it was the dark-haired boy's turn to pause his breath out of fear of upsetting a delicate balance. His friend toyed with the tip of his pinky finger, the gentlest, smallest caress with the side of his thumb. That minuscule movement made Akira's mouth suddenly dry, his heart suddenly too strong and flighty for his own chest.

_This isn't what I.....do I....?_

They sat for a moment in a silence that was inexplicably both completely comfortable and unendurably intense. Finally, Akira cracked his mouth open to croak, "So....will you let me help you?"

The taller boy looked down, and fixed him with dark, liquid eyes that seemed at peace for once, gentleness temporarily replacing their usual intensity and artistic scrutiny. He turned Akira's hand over in his own, raising his palm to what remained of the light, and began tracing the deep lines there with his own fingers, feather-light. Finally, he replied simply, "I will. Thank you." and smiled with a radiance that Akira swore left him genuinely blinded for a moment.

_Is this...? I didn't know._

_But._

_It isn't so bad. If it is him._

They sat there like that, in silent understanding, watching the day end, while something small and shy and perhaps a little frightened (on at least one side) blossomed into being. A fog horn sounded in the distance, and one last biker pedaled off into the dusk.

This peace...it felt real, in a way peace hadn't in a very long time. In the gentle quiet between the two boys, Akira thought of all that lay ahead for them. The battles. The blood. The danger.

He'd realized after the battle with Kamoshida's shadow that he couldn't truly know that he'd come through this safely. Or sanely. For the first time, that began to feel like a problem.

_I'll try. And if that doesn't work, I'll try harder._

_I challenge the world to just go ahead and **try** to kill this scrap of peace._

_(( Diiiiing.....diiiiiing.......diiiiing..... ))_

An alarm sounded on Akira's phone, startling him into releasing Yusuke's hand. Checking his phone, he remembered....

"Oh....that's right, that was today."

_No rest for the wicked, I guess. But, that's fine. He did just agree to meet her._

"I have an appointment in Yongen. But this works out. I'd been meaning to introduce you two, after all. Would you come with me?"

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

  
_(( Diiiiiing.......diiiiing........diiiiiing...... ))_

_A shrill tone from Akira's cellphone broke the comforting silence, and Yusuke's hand felt suddenly cold as Akira removed his own to check it._

_(( I wasn't ready for that to be over. I...I hadn't yet sorted out just what this meant! But now, in its absence....maybe I.... ))_

_"Oh....that's right, that was today." Akira smiled at him, dark hair cast wine-purple in the dying light. "I have an appointment in Yongen. But this works out. I'd been meaning to introduce you two, after all. Would you come with me?"_

_"Introduce me?" Yusuke felt thrown a bit off balance. They'd had this...moment, but Akira seemed to be seamlessly exiting it. Was it less than he'd thought?_

_"Yeah, I....." Akira rose, and in doing so, turned his face away. "I have, sort of, a doctor's appointment? You don't have to come with me, but I'd like it if you did." One hand reached out to him, then, and Yusuke's chest warmed as he grasped it. They smiled at each other, a little shyly, and though they walked away from their peaceful seat by the riverside, their hands remained._

_(( Perhaps not so seamlessly. That's....very well, then.))_

_"All right. I'll meet them."_

_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

_"So, my little 'guinea pig' has brought a friend today, has he?"_

_The woman behind the fractured glass of the reception counter looked more like the college art students he'd met through various exhibitions than a doctor, but Yusuke knew better than to judge competency by outward appearance. Still, her words did not put him at ease._

_(( Her....'guinea pig??' ))_

_"This is the other one who has been staying at Leblanc? Sakura has already spoken with me about him." She narrowed her eyes, appearing to glare right through him. Yusuke shuddered a bit, sensing something that wasn't quite malice, but was certainly unnerving. Then, she sighed, appearing put-upon. "Fine, then. Head back to the exam room."_

_Akira nodded, then tugged at Yusuke's sleeve. "Come on. This way."_

_He lead him through a battered wooden door plastered with layers of torn medical posters. Akira had to tug the door shut several times before it latched properly -- this clinic was in a grievous state of disrepair._

_The exam room looked dingy and old, but smelled surprisingly aseptic._

_(( Battered, but cared-for, is that it? ))_

_Akira smiled, and pointed to a seat in the corner, while he settled onto the exam table._

_(( In that case, I can see why he would feel comfortable here. ))_

_A sharp knock on the door heralded the entrance of the punk-looking doctor, who ignored Yusuke for now in favor of smirking at Akira. "You're here for another clinical trial, right?"_

_(( A what, exactly? ))_

_Yusuke's eyes darted to Akira, hoping to illuminate the situation, but the boy simply nodded. This was, apparently, a normal situation for him._

_The doctor leaned over to rifle though a mini fridge beneath her desk, then withdrew a small beaker of violently orange liquid, which she handed to Akira._

_Before Yusuke could inquire as to what in the world he was witnessing, Akira mumbled, "Bottoms up..." and downed the contents in one gulp._

_The boy's eyes instantly went wide, and he clapped a hand to his mouth._

_"....Akira? Are you....?"_

_Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he shuddered. He gasped, and then continued gasping, his breathing labored._

_"Akira?!?"_

_Yusuke watched in horror as Akira's eyes fluttered--once--twice--_

_(( This is--what have I just let happen to him?!))_

_\--still wheezing, he slumped....and then collapsed._

_(( ---!?! ))_

_Saying he was alarmed would have been the understatement of the year. Yusuke dashed to Akira's side, standing between his friend and this doctor-shaped menace. "What exactly have you done to him?!"_

_The portrait of composure, she simply leaned around him, noting something in her clipboard. "Hmm. A more violent reaction than last time, and still lacking the inhibitory effect I had hoped for. I'll have to adjust....you, excuse me--" She jostled Yusuke out of the way with a shockingly sharp elbow, then continued her examination. "Please be seated. I'll get to **you**_ _in a moment."_

_"But, he's--!"_

_She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh, you're worried about my guinea pig, are you? I take it that he didn't explain just what he'd be doing here today, then."_

_"N...no?"_

_As she conducted a series of tests on his unconscious friend, the doctor (who introduced herself as Tae Takemi) explained that Akira had agreed to work for her as a clinical test subject._

_Appearing to finish up, she turned to face Yusuke._

_"I'd intended to interrogate you a bit about my guinea pig...." Eyes roved over his lanky body, seeming to size him up. She frowned. "And I may still do that. But, first...."_

_She reached over to her desk, and...._

_\--seized a tiny potted cactus, pelting it suddenly at Yusuke's chest! It bounced off of him, then fell to the ground, scattering dry soil and tiny rocks across the exam room floor. "What--why would you do that?!"_

_In lieu of an answer, the terrifying woman grasped his wrist, pinching it between her thumb and first two fingers. "Hm. Sluggish, as I expected, despite my attempt to elevate your heart rate. And you're freezing. Brrr." She shuddered in a humorous, exaggerated way._

_Leaning forward then, she pinched the skin of his face between two vice-like fingers, and Yusuke recoiled in alarm. "Papery, dry, mmhm."_

_Ignoring his reaction, Takemi tugged him by the wrist, then gestured toward a scale in the corner. Briskly, she ordered, "Step here." A feeling of trepidation in his heart, he complied. The doctor frowned. "As I expected. Now, sit in your chair."_

_"I...okay. But just what was all of this?"_

_She glowered at him. "An exam. One you are clearly overdue for. Now, here are my recommendations."_

_"Recommendations?"_

_(( What has Akira gotten me into? ))_

_Yusuke glanced again at his friend. Akira was still unconscious, but seemed to at least be...breathing? As he watched, a single leg twitched._

_(( Although they say even corpses can do the same.... ))_

_His focus was then brought back to Takemi, who snapped a finger at him in irritation. "Yes. Recommendations. Eat food. Real, quality people-food. And these."_

_She handed him a rattling paper sack. "I've formulated these vitamins myself to increase vitality. They're mostly safe, probably." Sternly, she continued, "Give them a shot, but they are a **supplement** , not a replacement for a better diet."_

_A rustling sound alerted Yusuke to the fact that Akira was moving again. The boy's lips opened, muttering nonsense._

_"N...no, no more eggs, Boss, I can't fit any more eggs in my mouth. Birds?! I--oh." Akira began to wake, seeming dazed. He rose shakily, propped up by one hand on the exam table, paper crinkling beneath him._

_To Yusuke, Takemi chuckled, "Hmph. Funnier than last time--last week, he just kept muttering about 'blue velvet' and 'pretty blue things.' Although...." She eyed him amusedly, and Yusuke's face burned. "That makes more sense now."_

_The doctor then turned to Akira, rubber mallet in hand, exuding an aura of danger. "So, you're up. That works. Ready for some motor sk--"_

_The click of a door startled them, even moreso when a stern-looking police officer strode into the room._

_Akira turned instantly greyer as he shrank back from the man._

_(( Even I can tell that he doesn't want to be seen this way. ))_

_Yusuke stood, positioning himself between Akira and the officer, the way he'd seen Akira stand protectively a dozen times before. This was, evidently, the wrong thing to do however. The officer's eyes narrowed, and he glared at the trio._

_"Something to hide here, is that it? Although I hear that is standard for The Plague." The doctor grimaced at the nickname._

_(( 'The Plague?!' Akira's doctor--and now, apparently, my own--is known as 'The Plague?!' ))_

_From behind him, Akira spoke up. "Is there something wrong? I'm here for an appointment for my insomnia."_

_"Insomnia....?"_

_"Yeah." More confidently now, despite the fact that he had been unconscious literally moments before. Akira shrugged. "Nightmares, you know? But Takemi-sensei is a great doctor."_

_The officer huffed. "You may say so, but I've received reports that--"_

_Takemi rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm familiar. So, would you like to see my office records for the day? If you're here, this is about improper billing, correct? I have nothing to hide. Look all you want."_

_Looking startled, the officer stammered, "That's....but I was told--"_

_"You've been sent on a wild goose chase, I'm afraid. It isn't the first time. It won't be the last. But if there's nothing you want to see here, I'll have to ask you to allow me to continue treating my patient in peace."_

_"...Fine. But if I hear one more report--"_

_"Yeah, yeah. 'You'll be back!' That's fine. See you then!" Takemi waved in a mockery of cheerfulness as the officer stomped angrily from the clinic._

_Takemi turned to Akira. "Now, forget all of that, would you? I'll need to draw some blood, but then you're free to go. You may experience some dizziness afterward from mild anemia, but you'll be fine, won't you?"_

_Yusuke anxiously watched Akira grow greyer as vial after vial of blood was drawn from the crook of his friend's arm._

_Takemi bandaged him, then handed them each a paper cup that she filled from a jug in the office's mini fridge. "Drink up."_

_Yusuke blanched._

_(( I....am too young to die. ))_

_Unimpressed at his hesitation, she stared at Yusuke. Flatly, she stated, "It's juice."_

_"Oh."_

_He stared at the liquid suspiciously._

_"Bye, now. Come again soon, if you're still alive."_

_"If he's still alive?!"_

_"Oh, that's our joke, isn't it, Takemi-sensei?" Akira rose, wavered as a wave of green rushed through his face, recovered, and then began pushing Yusuke toward the door. "She's entirely, 99%, uh, 85% joking, I'm sure." He waved behind them as they exited the exam room._

_She waved back, looking mildly amused. "I'm really not joking! Try to live, though. It'll be quite inconvenient to have to restart this trial with a fresh assistant."_

_"Great, that's....super helpful, Takemi-sensei, I--" Akira muttered under his breath, then, catching himself, continued brightly, "Great, really great! Same time next week?" The punk doctor nodded, rolling her eyes with a smirk._

_The boys exited into the evening streets of Yongen, paper cups in hand._

_"So you're....a test subject? For experimental medication?"_

_Akira nodded, looking both haggard and embarrassed. "Yeah. Takemi-sensei says I'm 'statistically average and bland,' and, so, the perfect test subject. Ha..." He winced, then looked away. "Ryuji told me something similar. But if I'm going to be 'average,' at least, here, it's good for something?"_

_Yusuke thought back to that moment, and frowned at the memory, both in embarrassment-in-retrospect at his own behavior, and in distaste over their friend's thoughtless words._

_"You may recall that I disagreed with Ryuji in his assessment that day."_

_At that, Akira smiled, just a little. "That's right, you did. Hopefully getting to know me better hasn't spoiled that too much."_

_(( Spoiled it? Why would he think....? ))_

_"No! Ah....quite the contrary. Getting to know you further has been a genuine pleasure."_

_Akira's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth as if to say something--interrupted, apparently, by a fresh wave of nausea, as he clapped a hand to his mouth, looking green. Alarmed, Yusuke gestured to a bench further down the block. "You....do not look well."_

_"I can make it back to Leblanc. This isn't my first time getting home from this, Yusuke." Akira tried to laugh, but released some sort of horrid retch-hiccup hybrid instead._

_(( Does he truly do this simply because it is 'what he's good for'? That can't be it. ))_

_Determined, Yusuke pressed further. "You lied to that police officer."_

_Akira shrugged, then stumbled, wavering on his feet. Yusuke reached for his elbow anxiously, but Akira waved away the steadying hand. "The best lies are rooted in the truth, right? Besides, the others are counting on me for that medicine. What else can I do?" He took a swig of his juice, then made a face._

_"But....do they know what you're doing to obtain it?! That man called her "The Plague!""_

_A too-nonchalant laugh. "Yeah, that's a promising nickname, isn't it?" Glanced down at the paper cup, still full, clutched in Yusuke's hand. "You really should drink your juice. What's in the bag, anyway? Sorry, I wasn't really, uh, present when that happened."_

_(( He didn't answer me, did he? ))_

_Yusuke frowned, but took a tentative sip of the juice._

_(( Orange. And unsettlingly thick. Is this also "specially formulated?" How would one "specially formulate" juice, I wonder? ))_

_It had already gone warm. He grimaced._

_"It's...vitamins? But she said she formulated them herself."_

_"They should be safe then." Akira paused. "Probably."_

_Yusuke chuckled despite himself. "She said the same thing."_

_"Honestly, she seems like a fine doctor. Not that I...have much experience with them, but still. If you're nervous about it, remember that you've already taken medication from her clinic in the Palace. The others too."_

_Eyes widening in realization at how that might sound in context, Akira waved one hand, speaking more quickly as if jumping to reassure his friend. "I made sure to try it all, though, before handing it out, I swear! I....I wouldn't give you guys something that didn't seem safe." A genuine laugh. " I think the medication I'm 'testing' for her on the side is sort of a special beast of its own."_

_(( So he's even more of a 'guinea pig' than it seemed. But...he's lighthearted about it. Is this really acceptable? ))_

_Akira continued to joke. "Worst case scenario, you'll grow an extra arm or something. And that would be...er....handy?" Akira looked like he might vomit, and Yusuke found himself unsure of whether that was due to the lingering effects of the doctor's barely-tested medication, the tepid, possibly-tampered-with orange juice, or the truly terrible pun._

_Akira was clearly trying very, very hard to dodge the subject of his own health. Unhappily, Yusuke decided to allow it, for now--by the look on his face, another pun might genuinely risk his friend's death._

_"Well, that would, er....certainly open me up for an entirely new frontier in the art world, I'm certain. Or...a new fighting style? I'll..." He sighed, eyeing the paper sack resignedly. "I'll be sure to try them."_

_"Good. I worry about you, you know?"_

_"The feeling, I assure you, is mutual."_

 

 

 


	29. Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their final infiltration for Madarame's Palace is going about as well as you'd expect, and the thieves are reminded that they are truly capable of acting as one.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for your comments, kudos, and encouragement! They are so motivating! (〃^∇^)ﾉ

  
_[[ (( What is forever....? ))_

_Akira stood, bare feet shivering in cold, gritty sand, hands limp at his sides, as he watched the thieves slowly sail away across a mirror-smooth ocean, leaving not even ripples in their wake, let alone a backward glance._

_He shouted with all his might, expecting to hear his voice break from the force of it, ((Wait for me! Wait!)) but no sound left his lips, and no bodies turned to indicate that they had heard him._

_(( Can I **make** it happen? 'Forever'? ))_

_He took one step, then another, intending to wade into the frigid sea. Instead, pain shot through his shin as his foot slammed into an unexpectedly immovable surface._

_(( Glass...? ))_

_Staring down in shock, he saw his own reflection looking back at him from between his cold-blued legs. It smiled, gently. He knew it was a lie._

_His own mirrored body lifted a foot as he watched, dizzy at the sight of his own doppelganger acting independently of his body. The foot made contact on the other side of the sea, and--_

**_( ( ( F L I P ) ) )_ **

_The world spun, his gut dropped out, an icy rush of saltwater filled his lungs--his lungs--which were no longer breathing, which were--the last of his living air bubbled out from between cold lips, as he pounded, pounded a useless fist on the other side of the glass._

_His mirror image smirked at him from its new place in the sun. Behind it, unheeding, the thieves continued to row away, oars slipping inexplicably smoothly through the world that proved, for Akira, to be an immovable obstacle._

_(( No....forever--I-- ))_

_Akira stood, bare feet on the hard under-surface of the water, joined sole-to-sole by their doubles on the other side. His hair billowed around his face, flowing with the ocean current._

_(( Forever-- ))_

_He ran._

_(( Forever. Ann....everyone--forever, I wanted to promise, I really did, I just-- ))_

_He ran, and every slap of his foot against the frigid glass was like knife through bone._

_(( I can't promise, but I can still be here now. That's worth something, isn't it?! Don't **leave**!-- ))_

_He ran, and his double ran with him, a smile on its lips, hair kissed by the warmth of the sun. He reached out a hand, and his double reached out its own--and was met by the grasp of his found family's hands._

_His own outstretched fingers found only the smooth emptiness of the ocean currents._

_Heart chilling, in the cold, in the dark, Akira watched his own smile on someone else's lips, as his friends pulled another version of him aboard. A happier version. A warmer version._

_That gentle smile._

_A lie._

_Embraced._

_As the double's feet left the surface of the water, Akira's body lost all sense of gravity._

_He thought that, maybe, he was crying, but it was rendered irrelevant by the water that was dragging him down, down,_

_Down_

_The farther he fell, the more the sensation of water lost all meaning. Senses failing, he couldn't be certain if he even felt his own heart beating. If he reached up to touch his own cheek, would his hands simply pass through, like one ripple of water meeting another?_

_(( This...this void. I've been afraid. Ever since Igor told me that my 'power' was one of emptiness. What kind of future can I bring into being, with something like that? ))_

_He could no longer tell if his eyes were open. If he was capable of sight, taste, sensation--_

_(( What place is there in 'forever'....for someone like me? ))_

_Lost in an endless sea, a cold iron voice called out to him once again, and he shuddered with the memory of frayed feathers and shattered chains._

**_"Trouble comes to meet you soon, I hear."_ **

_(( Am I truly hearing this? Or is this all in my mind? My mind--! ))_

_With a start, Akira remembered. He was dreaming. This was a dream. But this voice..... **that** was something else altogether._

_(( A dream. A dream. A dreamadreamadream-- ))_

_It didn't feel like a dream._

_(( My mind--and-- ))_

_(( That's right. ))_

_He knew what this was. What he'd begun to awaken a month ago, only to shove away as deeply as he could._

_(( Trouble.....then this part of myself....if that is what it is....it knows we're coming to the end of another Palace. ))_

_Something sharp and icy pricked the small of Akira's back, and the painful sensation was overwhelming, reawakening touch after that timeless deprivation of feeling in the coal-black depths. It trailed its way up his body, slowly, cruelly, past his shoulder blades, along his gasping throat, to his mouth._

_Color bloomed in the once-empty dark, as a thread of red brushed his lips in the water. The scent of copper._

_The voice repeated, in an baleful rumble that Akira felt deep in his chest, like the tremble of terrified hands, magnified a thousandfold by immense power. The power a frightened child might **wish** they had, when alone in the dark. _

_**"Trouble comes. Will you drink this tonic, and accept my power once again?"** _

_The temptation...to find something, to **feel** something, reaching out through this void, regardless of its maleficence....it was nearly overpowering._

_But Akira shut his mind._

_(( This is a dream. This is a dream. ))_

**_"Is it? If you say so..."_ **

_**Something** then billowed, barely differentiated from the darkness around it. Something rough and raw and wrong brushed against Akira's ribs, as the single razor-point toyed more roughly with his lip and then, suddenly, withdrew._

_(( I know that this is a dream, even if you are not. ))_

**_"And you won't accept me?"_ **

_(( Not today. ))_

**_"Even if I am a part of you?"_ **

_(( Even so. ))_

**_"Even if I am the part of you that they need?"_ **

_(( I-- ))_

_Images flashed through his mind. His smile on someone else's lips. Hands grasped, in the sun. Fear channeled into power, clashing in a cruel stone throne room. Life, returning to Ryuji's eyes. The freedom of letting go._

_(( I-- ))_

_He shook his head, remembering, remembering more. Himself, his own worth--_

_Hands on his back. A stuffed rabbit. Golden hair warming an otherwise bleak atelier. Paws stretching at the foot of his bed. A gruff smile, a man ruffling his hair. A thumb, toying shyly with his finger, by the riverside._

_(( They need me. They need all of me. I....I can be both. I can be myself, **and** what they need. I **can** be! ))_

**_"And your....'forever'?"_ **

_He shook his head, and was somewhat surprised to actually **feel** himself, as resolve settled into his gut._

_(( I decided, that day, and I--I'm sticking with that. I won't agree to this. Not today, anyway. ))_

_(( And as for forever.... ))_

_His heart twisted at what he needed to admit._

_(( Forever may be impossible. I know that. I've always known that. But even if what I have with them isn't forever, it'll have to be good enough. ))_

_(( I won't forsake myself. I've made a promise, to seize this world and shape it, for them--for every person who needs courage--and to do so while still existing within that same world. ))_

_Silence._

_Silence, but within himself, an ominous sense of acceptance, and....waiting._

**_". . . . . ."_ **

_(( ..... ))_

_(( Fine then. Wait, if you want. That can be your forever. ))_

_As Akira shut his eyes, content, at least, with this, the edges of his existence felt fuzzy, his watery prison evaporating. Just before waking, he felt one familiar, comforting sensation. The brush of wings, embracing him, carrying him softly to wakefulness. ]]_

  
Akira cracked one eye open, wincing at the morning sun and his own splitting headache. The soft feathers of his dream had become his own plush blanket, his body curled into it like a life raft.

There was a faint copper taste on the tip of his tongue, and a small smear of bright red stained his threadbare pillowcase.  With a frown, he wondered at that. 

_Did I bite my lips in my sleep?_

Akirapressed a fingertip to his lip with trepidation, but it came away clean.  He sighed, staring up at the ceiling, watching motes of dust trail idly down through rays of sunlight.

_It doesn't matter._

The day had dawned, and, with it, at least a few drops of surety.

He pulled himself up, forcing himself into wakefulness, surrounded by the sounds of life. Morgana, still snoring. The crow nesting outside his window squawking in suspicion over his sudden movement. Yusuke, his outline visible behind his curtain, readying himself for the day.

_We'll end this, for you. I know we can do this. I can--I have that much power, at least._

_We'll end Madarame, and you can move forward in peace, Yusuke. No matter how my time here ends, I'll know that we at least did that for you._

Akira resolved to make a trip to the Velvet Room before their plan was fully set into motion. If he was going to reject that hideous strength, while still accepting responsibility for his teammates' safety...he needed to try harder, and be willing to push his own comfort in other ways.

_This, at least, I can do._

Akira stretched out in bed, mentally planning his morning -- coffee? or should he stop in at Untouchables before heading to the Velvet Room? Would Iwai have opened the shop this early? The exhibit began at ten, and they wouldn't be able to move until at least then, when Madarame would discover the calling cards that Morgana had posted in the dead of night.....

But--

 _☆ ~ Moments of calm ☆ ~ Nothing left to be found_  
_☆ ~ A mirror right in front of me ☆ ~ That's where I find...._

His phone was ringing, and he was deeply tempted to ignore it. These few hours....out of everything today, they were all that he could, with certainty, control.

_☆ ~ An empty glass ☆ ~ Reflecting the sad truth..._

Groaning, he dug the offending device out of the pocket of his sweatpants.

**○ Call incoming: Ryuji Sakamoto ○**

_☆ ~ It's telling words not to be told...._

_Damn it. **Him** I **can't** ignore._

_☆ ~ I need the ma---_

Mourning his half-formed plans, Akira pressed the 'accept call' button.

"Hello?"

"Hey man, did I wake ya? For a minute there I thought you weren't gonna pick up."

"Oh, no, sorry. Just took me a second to find my phone. Did something happen?"

A pause.

Yusuke plodded through his curtain, deep circles beneath his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink, and Akira mouthed at him, _"I'll make coffee, one sec,"_ holding up a finger. Yusuke nodded, then made his way downstairs, exhaustion showing in every weary step.

"Uh, no, not exactly. I just....I dunno, man. Truth be told I'm nervous."

"About today?"

"Yeah. I mean, aren't you? After last time...."

Akira tensed at the memory.

_[[ Ryuji, flung across stone floor like a ragdoll. A hand, reaching out, falling limp. ]]_

Tiredness chased out of his body by the tension of that recollection, he replied seriously.

"I know. I promise, I won't let you get hurt like that again, Ryuji."

"Huh?? Me?"

_Is that not what he meant...?_

"No, man. I mean obviously that wasn't great, but, uh....I was talkin' about you. Whatever happened with your Persona when we were fightin' Kamoshida. You were crazy strong, like, I get it, but...."

Words spilled out of Ryuji in a flurry like he'd been holding them in for some time, and Akira's face flushed with guilt.

"I was scared, too, you know? You weren't holdin' back, but you wouldn't let us jump in to fight either. I...when I had to hold you back, I was almost scared you were gonna fight me. And then you passed out, and the Palace was collapsing all around us, and it happened so fast, and--"

"H...hey, stop."

Akira interrupted Ryuji quietly, the memories of his dream the previous night resurfacing. His promise...

"I...I know. It won't happen today. I made a promise to myself. Whatever that was...not today, okay?"

"Yeah? I...."

Ryuji trailed off, seeming skeptical.

"I swear. I....I didn't like that power either. But we shouldn't need it right? Everyone is so much stronger this time."

"True. And we've got Yusuke now. Just...just promise me something Akira, okay?"

_Promises....Will this be one that I can keep?_

Akira wanted to say, _"Yes! Anything!"_

What he _did_ say was,

"Promise what?"

"This time, you'll let us all help. No--uh--that's not right--I--"

Ryuji stammered unhappily.

"That is--I know you're our leader and everything, but we're all equal in the Thieves, right?"

"Of course."

"So, we're doing this together. That's the promise I want from ya. No pushin' us out of the way to take hits yourself that we can take just as easily, no....no leavin' me--er--us behind. Together."

More quietly,

"Promise?"

_That.....that I think I can do._

"Yeah. Together."

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Akira watched Yusuke and Morgana slip over the wall and into the scaffolding above Madarame's Treasure, and had to force himself to remember to breathe. Hand on the lever that would lower Morgana through the Treasure's security laser grid, he silently repeated a prayer to no deity in particular,

_Please let Ryuji and Ann make it back here okay. Please let this plan work. Please let nothing go wrong._

If their plot went off without a hitch, there was the possibility of avoiding contact with Madarame's shadow entirely. They'd steal the Treasure, escape from the museum, and traipse off into the night, battle-scar-free.

_Wouldn't that be something? To have all of this worry be for nothing?_

 

**_(( dooooooooooooooooooooomm ))_ **

**. . . . . . . . . . .**  
**. . . . . .**  
**. . .**  
**.**

 

The lights went out, signaling that the first two thieves had done their part to set their plan into motion. In the pitch black, the museum was eerily silent, missing the electric buzz of security consoles, and even the clack of heels as the Palace's shadows froze in alarm.

_Now._

Akira pulled the lever, wincing at the initial _((squee-creak))_ of the rigging integral to their mission.

_Oh shit, please let that not have been heard._

A breath, in the dark. Two breaths. Ten. Then, movement--Yusuke's kitsune mask appeared as a white blur in the pitch-black room--the soundless signal to press the lever again, and retrieve Morgana.

He did so, and behind him, the door creaked open. Breathless panting entered the darkened room, and a disembodied blur of yellow--Ryuji's hair. A flash of pink--Ann laid her hand on Akira's shoulder. They'd made it, then.

Suddenly, Akira was blinded as the museum's power system roared back to life. His eyes struggled to adjust, as, across the building's P.A. system, Madarame roared, "Close off all of the exits, and _destroy_ those damned thieves!"

 **((REEEEEEEEEEEE REEEEEEEEEE REEEEEEEEEEE))**  
**((REEEEEEEEEEEE REEEEEEEEEE REEEEEEEEEEE))**

_**Shit**._

The alarm that screeched through the very bones of the building nearly drowned out Akira's voice as, abandoning stealth, he shouted, "No time, guys. Go, go!"

Above them, Yusuke waved a hand, ushering the lower three thieves up onto the scaffolding. Behind him, Morgana trilled, clutching a thin, rectangular object wrapped in a royal purple dropcloth--almost certainly a painting.

From their perch above the main museum interior, Akira watched shadows scurry, locking down exits and resetting security lasers.

_No getting out the way we came. But, there--_

He'd spotted the small, high window on their previous infiltration, but had hoped they wouldn't have to use it. Akira craned his head through the tiny, square opening, looking out into the night at the nearly perfectly flat face of Madarame's golden abomination.

Wind tousled his hair in that unnerving, off-kilter current that seemed characteristic to the Metaverse, and he tried to tuck it behind his ears, out of the way, but failed. Goosebumps prickled wherever his flesh was exposed to the bitter night air. Up here--this high--it felt like an entirely other world.

Beneath him, the golden Palace glistened, trying to outshine the very stars. He couldn't deny that, for all of its gaudiness, it was dazzling. Disgusting, but dazzling.

"Team, out through here."

Ann peered around his shoulder and gasped at the sheer fall that awaited them with a single misstep. "Joker....are you sure?"

He nodded. "There are ridges we can walk along, if we're careful. I'd say that we can take it slow, but honestly? We need to go, _now_. I'll lead the way. Everyone, watch each other's backs."

Akira lowered himself from the window. His boots made contact with the ledge below, and...skidded.

_Shit._

The outside of the museum was slick with dewy condensation. Not all that glimmers is _gold_ , evidently.

"Take it slow, guys."

_We can do this._

They scaled the outside of the highest floor of the museum without much trouble. Akira glanced behind himself when they reached the next floor, evaluating his team.

Morgana hopped along the rear, his small size and feline agility serving him well. Yusuke was distracted, but with one hand on the wall, he seemed to be faring fine. Ryuji's boots were likely the most practical out of any of their costumes, and Akira noted with a smile that he kept his feet planted firmly on the slick ground, one hand ready to steady Yusuke if he fell.

Ann, though..

She was doing her best, but the high heels of her costume were decidedly  _not_ well-suited to a narrow trek down, essentially, a metal slide. Her knees bent, she was taking the tiniest of steps, trailing behind everyone but Morgana.

Akira opened his mouth to order Ryuji to look after Panther, instead, but--

It all happened so fast.

**( ( SLAM!! ) )**

A shadow beat its fist against a window, its vicious scowl slammed against the glass.

The glass right beside Ann's head.

**"Aghh!"**

"Oh, shit!"

"Panther!!"

She flailed in surprise, then slipped, heels frantically skidding, trying to regain traction. Ryuji turned at her shout, reached out for her hand--missed!

Morgana tossed the painting aside in a panicked attempt to reach her. No good--it plummeted down the side of the building, out of sight, and though he dove toward her, he didn't--

"Oh no...." Her words were quiet, barely more than a breath.

Ann's frantic eyes met his own mid-air, as she slipped over the side, into the cold, empty night.

**"NO! PANTHER!"**

Akira wanted to jump after her--to find a way to her side. But there was no fucking _room_ , and--

_No no no no **no no no no**_

_My fault_

In horror, he braced himself for the **((SMACK))** of his friend's body against the stones of the courtyard below.

_My fault_

But it....didn't come?

"Lady A--Panther?!"

Morgana dangled from the edge of the ledge, peering into the night. "Panther!"

From below, but not nearly as far below as he'd expected, Ann's blissfully irritated voice groaned, "Ohhh. Fucking ouch."

_?!?!?_

"Panther?!"

One hand against the wall, Akira knelt carefully to stare along the edge of the museum. Beneath him, a pair of bright blue eyes looked up, while pink gloves clung to the sill of a narrow window a floor below.

A pained voice called up, "I'm okay! Owwww, though. I still need some help here. Why does this goddamned costume have high heels....? Sorry, guys."

Ryuji shouted after her, "Don't friggin apologize, Panther! Just--just stay there, we'll get you--" He turned to Akira, eyes wide. "How're we gonna get her?"

"I dropped it.... _and_ I couldn't even help her. I'm so sorry, everyone." Morgana's tiny, guilty voice crept from behind Ryuji's legs, and Akira empathized more than he would ever want to admit.

"We'll get it, Mona. And her. Fox--?"

"Yes?!" The artist's head snapped to face him, and Akira winced at the fear and guilt also plastered across his own face.

Trying to comfort them all, including himself, he began, "We're going to get out of this _together_. Fox, I know that you used Goemon's ice to get to me before. How precise can you be with that?"

"I.....I....." He was clearly shaken, and Akira empathized, but....damn it--

"Fox, snap out of it! _How precise can you be?!_ "

"Ahh--fairly? Perhaps not within centimeters, but, if I am very careful--"

"Can you create a platform beneath Panther's feet, to hold her until we can reach her?"

Yusuke's eyes widened in thought, as he held his hands out before him, ice crystals flickering into being in the shimmering air around his gloves. "I think so."

"Do it. Now!"

Concentrating, Yusuke lowered a hand over the edge.

From below, Ann yelped, "Ahh! Coldcoldcoldcold!"

"My apologies! Let me adjust the--"

_I can only trust that he--_

"Mona!"

"Joker? Yes?!"

"Do you still have rope?"

Mona rifled through his utility belt, and withdrew a small length. "Will this do?" Akira eyed it, and wasn't sure, but....

"It'll have to. Now, Skull, I'm counting on you. You're the most athletic out of any of us, and your boots have the best traction."

"Anything, man, what's the plan?"

"I need you to be my anchor. Keep hold of the rope up here. I'm going to use it to scale the side and climb down to Panther. Then we'll climb back up, one at a time. Can I count on you to hold steady?"

Bright brown eyes met his own, hardening with determination. "Yeah. I'll be your anchor. Let's do this."

Ryuji took the rope from Morgana, wrapping it several times around his forearm, and planting his feet. He tossed the length over Yusuke's still-bent back, and Akira grasped it mid-air.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

Without giving himself a moment to think, or doubt, Akira lowered himself over the edge, pointed black boots pressed into the sleek golden shell of Madarame's palace, searching for any friction whatsoever. The night wind tousled his hair, the rope creaked beneath his fingers, and he lowered himself, inch by inch, down to Ann's tiny ledge on the lower story.

As he drew closer, Ann's shuddering voice reached him. "J....Joker, please hurry. I can't--ahh-- **shit** \--!"

_**No**! I won't let her fall again!_

**"SKULL! HOLD ME!"**

Akira lessened his grip, and in a blur slid to the end of the rope. Dangling half-upside down, cold sweat beading on the back of his neck, he flailed out, and--grasped one pink-clad wrist!

"Panther!"

At the sudden weight, the rope groaned--but held. Akira could feel the strain of it as Ryuji struggled to hold on.

**"FOX! Man, help me with this, ughh--"**

_Just a little longer._

"Joker! Joker, don't let go, please don't let go!"

Ann dangled from his hand, her other arm reaching up to grip his wrist. Beneath her, a small ledge of ice had formed, but Akira could see cracks beginning to form from her weight.

"Never."

_I say that, but how can I do this? The rope is just a few feet too short._

"Panther, I'm going to pull you up as hard as I can. I'm going to need you to jump off of what remains of that ice at the same moment. Can you do that?!"

Breathless, "Yeah--yeah! Just hurry, it--"

_((Creeeeakkkkcrackkkkk))_

"On one. Three--two-- _ONE_!!"

He _**pulled**_.

Ann jumped.

The ice beneath her gave its last gasp, then crackled to the ground below in a cascade of sparkling splinters.

Akira's heart beat wildly in his chest, and he willed it to stop. He couldn't risk dizziness. Not now--

_But she made it. She made it._

Ann clung to his coat, then grabbed the rope herself, her heels digging painfully into his shin as she stabilized her balance.

The rope creaked. Ryuji's voice cut through the cold night air-- "Ahh--shit--" Their tether to life slackened for a single heartbeat, and Akira felt himself fall an inch, another inch--

\--then, his fall arrested, the rope taut once again. "Here!" Yusuke's deep voice reached his ears, and Akira let out the breath he hasn't realized he was holding.

Glancing above, a pair of eyes met his own. Morgana peered over the edge, and Akira nodded. "Mona, tell them--pull us up!"

Akira stared into Ann's eyes with a breathless grin.  Slowly, an identical one spread across her own lips.

"We made it!"

_Together, huh?_

Clinging to the rope, they pressed their foreheads together, then burst out laughing in hysterical relief.

"Yeah....haha... hahaha.....we made it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boss fight next chapter! See you then ~ 
> 
> It's already partially written out, this chapter was just getting a little unwieldy, so I decided to split them up.


	30. The Worth of Life/A Revelry in Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira sticks to his word. "All of us, together." Regardless of how impossibly hard that feels. 
> 
> The thieves find strength in one another.

Finally on solid ground, knees still quaking from their much-more careful descent, the thieves dug through the ornamental bushes along the perimeter of the museum's courtyard, searching for the Treasure that Morgana had dropped during the earlier crisis.

The not-cat continued to apologize, ears drooping. "I'll find it, I know I will. I'm so sorry, everyone--"

Akira knelt down to face him, on his own level. "Mona, stop."

"But, I--"

"Any of us would have done the same. Panther's life is worth more than that Treasure. All that you did was show that you have your priorities straight."

Morgana blinked, then slowly smiled sheepishly. "You think so?"

Firmly, Akira insisted, "Yes."

More confidently, Morgana nodded. "That's right. Of course the safety of my teammates was more important. Recognizing that on instinct....that makes me pretty human, right?"

Akira smiled fondly at his earnestness. "Of course."

"Guys! Found it!"

The thieves gathered around Ryuji, who was tugging the Treasure out of the stubbornly grasping branches of an azalea bush. As he did so, the purple dropcloth fell away, and--

As one, they gasped, and Yusuke's face fell, his eyes full of pain.

In their hands, they held his own portrait from Madarame's gallery of students, in miniature form. The one he hadn't wanted to see. His own eyes stared out at them meekly from the canvas, the very portrait of polite servitude.

_But, this--_

As they brought it out of the shadow of the building and into the light of the greater courtyard, deep rends in the surface of the canvas became evident. Jagged slashes tore across the painted Yusuke's gut, his arms, his mouth. The portrait had been entirely desecrated.

Moisture glimmered in Yusuke's dark eyes as he tugged the portrait out of Ryuji's hands. None of the thieves moved to stop him--all were solemn, watching him take in the destruction.

"His cognition....." Morgana murmured.

"But this....it isn't right!" Ann clenched a fist, flailing in sudden anger.

Ryuji looked up to the path they'd taken down the face of the museum, brow creased with worry. "This is supposed to be his Treasure, right? Was it beat up like that in the fall...?"

Yusuke finally broke his own silence. "No. These are deliberate." His voice was strangely light and level, and Akira began to wonder if his moments of emotional steadiness in the past were _not_ all that they had seemed to be. The tears he had noticed earlier were gone, and Akira wondered now if he'd only imagined them.

"These...he's done this in the past, to my artwork that he did not deem....acceptable. I suppose that **I** am now included in that category. It would make sense."

_He did this in reality?! To things Yusuke created with his own hands?!_

_That's not... **no** , that doesn't make sense to me at **all**!_

"No, Fox." Akira stared at his friend, unsure of what to say, but needing to say something.

"Hm?" Yusuke raised an eyebrow in a look of carefully cultivated mildness.

_There it is again. That dispassionate stare, that limp posture. He should be **angry** , he should be--_

"Don't...don't accept that." Akira strode to Yusuke's side, then removed the painting from the artist's grasp, passing it to Ann. Yusuke's hands remained outstretched, empty, as the boy looked blankly into the space made void with its absence.

Taking a breath, Akira took Yusuke's hands into his own, shaking them to get his attention. "Madarame...whatever he might think, he's wrong. I want you to know that. I need you to know..." He looked up into his friend's eyes, and saw a spark of life there.

_~ Time for a flourish, to ignite that lively spark._

_I....yes._

Emboldened, he continued, "You...if he thinks that you are unacceptable...that what you _create_ is unacceptable, that what you **_want_** is unacceptable, then... **revel** **in it.** "

Yusuke's hands stirred within his grasp, gripping his own more steadily. "Revel?"

Staring up at the taller boy, Akira was struck by just how....beautiful he was, even now. Even hurting, exhausted, betrayed, Yusuke's sharp features dominated the world around them. Nothing in Madarame's Palace of false creation could possibly compare.

_I wish I could kiss him right now._

Akira's breath caught at the realization, but he didn't shy away from it.

_The time isn't right. But....that is something I know now._

_Something I want._

_It doesn't feel wrong._

He chewed his lips, forcing his gaze away from Yusuke's own mouth, and, instead, continued to speak. "Yes. Revel in it. Be unacceptable. Claim it. You...part of what makes you so beautiful, in my eyes, is that you're no one but yourself."

Yusuke's cheeks reddened just-perceptibly, and Akira wished more than ever that he could read the boy's mind.

_What does he think of **me** , after all? Am I hoping for too much?_

After what felt like an agonizing wait, Yusuke merely replied, "To embrace the unacceptable parts of one's heart. Maybe, I--" Yusuke's eyes darted to every corner of Akira's face, searching--

Mouth dry, Akira waited, but--

"Uhh.....guys? Heads up!" The moment was lost in Ryuji's words of warning.

_Damn it._

"So.... _this_ is what my former pupil threw his life away for. Yusuke. I should have known that your....proclivities would lead you astray."

_His **what**? Does that mean.... **no, forget it, Akira.** If you are going to learn something like that, it should be from Yusuke himself, not some demented shadow._

Yusuke's entire body tensed at the statement, but to Akira's surprise, he did not pull his hands away. Instead he turned, placing himself at Akira's side. He looked up at the taller boy, and saw only grim determination there. Was it his imagination, or did Yusuke stand taller than he had a moment ago?

From across the courtyard, Madarame's shadow strolled casually, flanked by guards, a cruel smirk on his lips. And, in the hands of his righthand security shadow....

_Another painting! The dropcloth is identical. Was the portrait of Yusuke a decoy? But that means...._

Akira glanced at the ruined painting in Ann's hands, and his shoulders shook with an unexpectedly powerful anger.

_That means that he left that for us--for **Yusuke** \--deliberately._

"That bastard...." Akira growled through gritted teeth, starting toward the man, but restrained by the cold glove gripping his own. He tensed in frustration, but forced himself to wait.

_I want to tear him to pieces. But....this isn't just my fight._

Realization dawning, Ann uttered with astonishment, "So the Treasure we stole was a fake...just like the rest of Madarame's life."

Yellow eyes danced with amusement at the sight of the thieves' dismay. "Did you enjoy my gift?"

"You call that a _gift_? What's wrong with you, you asshole?!" Ryuji radiated fury, gripping his bat, but it did nothing to chase away the look of smug satisfaction on Madarame's makeup-caked face.

"Why...." Yusuke's voice was a deep, passionate rumble in Akira's ear. "Why does the man who acted as my father have to conduct himself in such an abominable way?"

Madarame raised an eyebrow, leering. "Oh, is that a hint of _passion_ that I sense from you, Yusuke? But then, that is what I've always found so delightfully naive about you--that passion only makes you easier to use."

"So you admit it." Ann looked down her nose at the despicable man before them, utterly disgusted.

"And why shouldn't I? There's nothing shameful about using a tool provided to you. There's nothing special about this child, just as there was nothing special about his pitiful mother."

Akira felt a jolt run through Yusuke's body, and he gripped his hand, hoping to somehow transfer strength to the young artist through their connection.

"My...mother? What do you mean by that? Tell me!"

"Your mother..." Madarame took a confident step forward, gesturing to his right hand guard to follow. "That girl had 'passion' as well, and it served only to elevate _me_. So why don't you give in, and **know your place?** "

Yusuke's next intake of breath was more of a hiss than anything else. Coldly, he demanded an answer. "Elevate you  _how?_ You told me that her works had been destroyed."

"Hmph. You're going to die here, so I may as well grace you with one final sight."

Madarame gestured to the security shadow with a heavy-handed flourish, and the curtain fell, revealing--

_It's the Sayuri! So this is his true Treasure. But, there's something different about it--oh!_

_She's cradling a baby? And if this is Yusuke's mother's work, that makes this child...._

"Here is the Sayuri's original, _inferior_ form. A woman who knew her death was coming painted her last wishes for the son she would leave behind.  How trite."

Without the encroaching purple mist present on the lower half of the portrait, Sayuri's intentions were purely clear. A loving mother, gazing at her child, adoration shining through her quiet grief.

"Humorous, is it not? If she'd focused her pursuits on the true purpose of art--if she'd sought riches,  _comfort,_ think of the life you'd have had!" 

Madarame smiled cruelly at the true Sayuri. "Your mother was a fool, but that foolishness served me well. And it seems it is hereditary. Ha! You should have seen the pricetag I've been able to put on some of the muck you've presented to me as 'art.'"

Beside him, Yusuke had gone white as a ghost. Akira didn't know what to say. Any words...they felt inadequate against what he must be feeling. In their stead, he continued to hold his friend's shaking hand.

Voice dangerously low, Yusuke murmured, "You....for money, for fame...you stole the meaning behind my mother's own portrait? Why? Why did you paint over the infant?"

Delighting in his cruelty, Madarame's sickening grin widened. "Like everything you touch, the portrait was enriched by your absence, Yusuke. Erasing the infant created allure, mystery, _worth_. And the critics of the art world ate it up, like rats feeding from my hand."

"And now, what little use I've had for you is complete, Yusuke. I will reap you, and rake in the rewards. Imagine the press coverage I will receive after the "tragic" and mysterious demise of my cherished pupil!"

_He....._

"You monster!" Ann cried out, the air around her shimmering with a furious heat.

_How could that be all he saw in Yusuke?_

"Fucking bastard." Ryuji stomped to Akira's side, shoulders hunched, readying his bat.

_Just a tool, to be discarded?!--_

Akira saw red. He felt airy, disconnected from his body in the roar of blood that rushed through his head. "You...you were planning his death?!" He lunged forward, and Yusuke matched his stride, though he swayed uneasily.

A bitter laugh escaped the artist's thin lips. "So, it's true. It's always been true. You destroy us, your 'art,' the moment we are no longer profitable to you. And...and my....my mother, she was your 'art' as well....was she not?"

"Is it my fault, that she suffered from seizures? So, perhaps, I didn't call for help as swiftly as may have been....prudent. Really, her death was inevitable. She was always weak, in every sense of the word. Don't blame me for her failure to provide a future for you."

"You....killed her. In more ways than one. In destroying the meaning behind my mother's work, you may as well have desecrated her corpse."

"Destroyed? Ha, I would say that I eleva--" Madarame began, before Yusuke interrupted him, an icy rage radiating through every bitter syllable.

"You've destroyed it. Any belief I may have held about your possible redemption. Thank you for that, at least. It seems you truly have given me a gift today. You're a worthless fiend, a parasite. And I...I will blot you out!"

Yusuke released his hand to draw his katana, and, ignoring the small pang of loss, Akira shouted to his companions, "It's time! Ready yourselves!"

"You got it!"

"I'm _so_ ready to wreck this sleazeball!"

Before their eyes, the air around Madarame flickered and bulged, his form warping and multiplying like cancerous cells. One wide and frenzied eye separated itself from his face, flattening and spreading like paint spread by a palette knife. His other features joined it, each enclosed in separate hideous gilt frames, dancing in the air in the macabre approximation of a face.

**"You...? You dare to challenge my earned place in this world?"**

_~ Let us dispose of him **boldly**! Let us show this weak creature what it truly means to risk death for your art!_

_Yes._

"You've earned _nothing_! **Matador! Swift strike!** "

Akira's newest Persona released a flurry of blows, clearing the way forward for a barrage of attacks from the thieves. The air sizzled with lightning, prickled with vicious frost. But, when the smoke cleared....

"What the--?! Joker, it did nothing!"

A wretched painted mouth grinned as minute tears in the surface of its canvas knit back together before their eyes. "Didn't I tell you useless children? I will take your power, and turn it into my own!"

The spirit within him growled in frustration.

_Their attacks...he absorbed them, and used them to heal himself. That fucking--_

A grin turned into a manic laugh, and Akira dashed forward with his knife, determined to rend the confidence from his sickening face.

_~ La puntilla! Sientes mi furia!_

**"--Bastard!"**

His knife struck canvas, it tore, and his lips curled in satisfaction as the thieves cheered behind him. But--

A torrent of black welled up in the painted mouth's gaping throat, spewing out a sudden gout of noxious-smelling tar. Akira was blinded, and fell to the ground, wiping frantically at his face.

"I can't see! I can't--ahhh, my arms, I--"

Weakness spread through his body like an irresistible fog, and he collapsed to his knees, unable to lift a hand. Desperate to fight it, he willed his body to act, to listen to his commands, but the more he struggled, the more the paralyzing sluggishness settled into his limbs.

"Someone help Joker!"

Though still blinded, Akira recognized Morgana's voice, shouting, "There's something weird about that black gunk! I think it sapped his strength!"

Warm arms wrapped around him, and he recognized the creak of leather. "Don't worry, buddy, I've got ya." Ryuji dragged Akira backward, away from the battle. He wanted to fight him--that was the wrong direction! He needed to lead, to fight, to--

_But there's nothing I can do like this._

"Goddamn it...."

Around him, he could still hear the clash of battle, as Ann and Yusuke struggled to keep Madarame's shadow at bay. Frantically, he removed one sodden glove to wipe his eyes with a bare hand. Slowly, Ryuji's face came blurrily into sight.

He pulled the red scarf from his own neck, patting Akira's eyes. "Shit got you good, huh?"

"Yeah. I can see a little now, so--" Akira tried to pull away, only to stagger weakly to his knees, his strength still drained.

"H--hey, man, just wait. Mona! Can you heal this guy?"

"Yeah! One--oof! One minute! I just--- ** _Garu_**!"

"Damn it...." Akira clenched a fist, face burning with shame. "I need to lead you guys, and now the others...they're stuck fighting on their own. How useless."

"Hey. Cut that shit out."

His eyes darted up to meet Ryuji's, stunned by the seriousness in his voice. "But, I--"

"It's okay, Joker." At that, Ryuji's voice gentled slightly. "Those guys aren't weak, you know. Can't you see? They're holding their own. We've got this too. All of us together, remember?"

He laughed, still wiping grime from Akira's face. "Maybe you're special, but you're not _that_ special. We're not gonna fail just 'cuz you're knocked out of the fight for a second."

_Not.... **that** special. I....I know that. I know that, but...._

"Yeah...but even so--!"

"You don't like sitting back any more than I do, huh?"

Akira lowered his eyes to the floor, embarrassed at feeling so exposed.

"Then, don't!"

"....huh?"

"There's more than one way to lead, right? So lead us, dammit!"

_More than one way...to be needed?_

_....I guess I can live with that._

"Right." Akira blinked several times, clearing his eyes fully, then took in the situation.

Ann and Yusuke were alternating their magical and physical attacks, attempting to parse out some weakness in Madarame's shadow. From what he could tell, their attacks did occasionally connect, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason behind what actually worked. A gout of fire from Carmen singed the portrait of a right eye, while healing the left. Worse than that, the pair were forced to spend at least half of their time on the defense, dodging torrents of black, bile-like paint.

Morgana broke away from the fight, darting to Akira's side, with a panted **_"Dia!"_**

Akira felt some of the exhaustion leave his body, but he could tell that he still wouldn't be doing acrobatics any time soon. "Thanks, Mona."

_This damned paint._

His eyes widened, an idea forming.

_\--Paint! ...but isn't there--_

His gaze darted to the outskirts of the courtyard, where several gallons of paint were tucked in an out of the way corner. Trails of black leaked down the sides of the metal cans, and Akira wondered...

_Is it too much to hope--?_

"Mona! Trade out with Fox, quickly. Skull, listen closely. I have a plan."

 

  
_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

  
_Yusuke clutched the ink-covered paintbrush so tightly that his fingers ached, yet he couldn't bear to loosen his grip._

_(( Will this plan truly work? I can only hope-- ))_

_He forced himself to stand back, hiding with Ryuji behind a large azalea, as a still-wounded Akira staggered toward the battle, one leg dragging numbly._

_(( I despise this. Allowing him to limp into battle like that, in my stead, even for a moment....but his plan is sound. I know it is. Still, I... ))_

_Through the leaves, Yusuke watched Madarame's manic grin widen at the injured thief's approach._

_"It's you, is it?" A barking laugh. "So, my pitiful student has abandoned you to your fate to save himself. I'm glad to see that I've finally **taught** him something."_

_Furious, Yusuke lunged forward, and was stopped only by Ryuji's grip on his shoulder. "I know man. I know. Any second now, okay?"_

_He gritted his teeth, thunder racing through his heart, and forced himself to merely prepare to dash in at the proper moment. Still, he couldn't have prepared himself for Akira's words._

_"Pitiful?" Akira sounded utterly disgusted and dismissive of the creature towering over him. "If you truly knew Yusuke, if you'd truly earned the right to call yourself his teacher.... **or** his father....you'd know that there is nothing to pity about him. Yusuke is stronger, more vibrant, than you'll ever be. You think you have the right to devour his future...but I don't think you've got the stomach for it. **Matador**!"_

_"Now!" Ryuji hissed in his ear, and Yusuke rushed forward in tandem with his teammate, the song of battle rushing through his ears, paintbrush in hand._

_Before them, Matador waved his cape, a crimson shroud shielding their approach from Madarame. The shadow laughed at the sight. "A weakling like you...it was useless last time, and you'll be useless now!"_

_Yusuke could hear the proud smirk in Akira's voice, as he called out, "Not me. **Them**!"_

_With a flourish, Matador waved his cape, revealing the thieves dashing toward the floating cluster of paintings with all of their might. Madarame's eyes widened in shock as Akira stepped aside with a bow._

_"Fox!"_

_Ryuji lowered his hands, and Yusuke stepped into them, accepting the boost up. He was flung into the air, hand outstretched, heart pulsing with fury._

_With one wicked swipe of his paintbrush, Yusuke shouted, "I will take your eyes!"_

_Another. "I will take your sight!"_

_Kicking off of the portrait of one blinded eye for another twirl through the air, voice hoarsened from passion, he continued, black paint trailing in his wake, **"I will drown you in tar, and render you unable to respond to your falsely gotten accolades! I will deafen you, and you will never hear their praise again!"**_

_Black streamed from every corner of Madarame's face, paint running, features trembling. As Yusuke finally released his paintbrush and leapt to the ground, he smiled, framed by a shimmering rain of fire, lighting, and wind, blue hair dancing in the wake of his teammate's vicious attacks._

_Before his eyes, Madarame's features collapsed into themselves like every sketch he'd ever destroyed in shame. They crumbled to the floor, dissolving into a puddle of charcoal-dark muck._

_From the ooze, Madarame's true form crawled, still blinded, still choked by his own toxic sludge. Through tarry, stained lips, he babbled uselessly, something about mercy, or money, or mothers. Yusuke didn't care to hear it._

_"Don't speak to me."_

_Pitiful, the disgraced false artist cowered. "My....my boy, I--ahhhh!" The man blubbered as Yusuke held the blade of his katana to his former mentor's throat. Blood spilled, then, mingling with ink in a trailing, clotted mess to stain a gown that would never shine golden again._

_"Didn't I tell you not to speak to me?"_

_Yusuke felt distant, apart from himself, though he felt the solid weight of his blade in his hands, and smelled the sickening potion formed by tar and blood and shamefulness._

_"It must be fate, that you would find yourself at my mercy in the place where you, yourself, built a monument to your false success. I would watch you tear it down yourself, with your own bloody hands."_

_Tears erupting from blackened eyes, Madarame sobbed, begging indistinctly for his life. Yusuke couldn't find it in himself to care about his exact words. He'd already made up his mind._

_(( Accepting the unacceptable parts of one's own heart...does that include a desire for revenge? ))_

_"But that destruction...it cannot be truly completed in a place like this, can it?" Disgusted, he sheathed his sword, then threw Madarame to the ground. "Return to yourself. Reveal the truth to the world, as art is supposed to reveal the truth of one's heart. That...may be the one chance for true creation you'll have in your wretched life."_

_"You....you won't kill me?! You're not like....like the one with the black mask? The other?!"_

_Yusuke turned away from the man who had defined his life, into the waiting arms of his friends. And the outstretched hand of one dark-haired boy who was beginning to show him that life was a thing you could only define for yourself._

_"Goodbye, sensei. You've been a disappointment."_


	31. A Day in the Life of Ryuji Sakamoto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mood switch back to fluff, leading in to Operation Maidwatch. Next chapter will switch back to Akira's perspective for post-Palace feels, but for now, enjoy ~

_Ryuji groaned, covering his head with his pillow, trying to ignore the shrill wail of the nearly industrial-strength alarm clock that his mother had bought him the last time he'd been late for school._

_(( Can't a guy get five more minutes of sleep once in a while?! Just five! ))_

_Grumbling, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, sending a pile of sports manga tumbling to the floor. Eyeing the mess, he sighed. He'd fallen asleep in a pile of clean, folded laundry, after getting distracted by manga._

_(( But ma's always tellin' me I should read more, right? So it's fine.))_

_With one clenched fist, he crossed the room, then punched the shrieking wall-mounted alarm clock into submission. "Yeah, yeah I'm up you stupid fucking--"_

**_"RYUJI SAKAMOTO! LANGUAGE!"_ **

_(( Shit, she's still home?! ))_

_Through the door, he mumbled an ashamed, "Sorry, ma....."_

_The blonde stumbled blearily around his room, tripping over scattered sneakers and video game controllers. Pulling on yesterday's tshirt with a sniff ("Ehhhh, clean enough...."), he ran his plans for the day through his mind._

_(( No more Palace shit, no more crazy drama! Today's gonna be a bro's day out for sure! ))_

_(( Akira promised to go runnin' with me after school....and then I'm gonna take him to Ogikubo! Guy's gonna learn the meaning of a 'good meal' in Tokyo. Man cannot live on curry alone! Or, uh, some shit like that. ))_

_At that, Ryuji cracked open his wallet. Crestfallen, he realized he was flat broke._

_(( Shit...how'm I gonna go out to eat, then? Let alone... ))_

_His eyes lit on the blush-pink flyer peeking out of his school bag. He stuffed it down before leaving his room--his ma did **not** need to catch him with that._

_Calling down the hall of his small apartment, he yelled, "Hey, uh....ma?!"_

_Looking harried, but still finding the energy to smile at him, his mother poked her head through the door of their tiny bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth. Around it, she mumbled, "Shhhhorry, Rjuuu--one sheck--" she darted back in, spitting in the sink with a "Pah!" before re-emerging, tying her hair back into a low ponytail with a scrunchie that matched her pale pink scrubs._

_"Sorry, kiddo, lunch today is just a bento from the corner store. I didn't have time to throw together something better."_

_"That's fine, ma! Convenience store bentoooooo **special**!" Ryuji pumped a fist, grinning up at his mother, who smiled back at him fondly._

_"You're such a good boy, Ryuu." She stared at him, as he stared back, clear expectation in his goofy, nervous grin. "All right. Spit it out, kid, what do you want?"_

_"You've got me...." Ryuji scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, and a little guilty. He didn't like asking his mom for money, but he didn't do it often, so... "I was wonderin'....I kinda wanted to invite that buddy I was tellin' you about out for ramen today, but...."_

_"Short on cash, huh kiddo?" His mother's bright brown eyes narrowed in a parody of sternness before she broke and laughed. Digging in her purse, she chuckled, "Yeah, that's fine. I haven't given you any sort of allowance in ages, have I?"_

_Ryuji's eyes widened as she handed him a crumpled handful of thousand-yen bills. "Whoa, mom, this is way too much, I--"_

_She smirked. "Oh, this isn't all out of the goodness of my heart. Believe me, I expect to be buying some labor from you out of this. Let's say...by Saturday? All laundry done, kitchen and bathroom wiped down? **And then some?** "_

_He laughed. "Yeah ma, I can do that. Thanks a lot."_

_"I've really got to meet that Akira-kun one of these days. Seems like he's been a good influence on you." She shot him a fond smile before checking her watch, snatching her purse, and heading for the door. "Okay, I'm off to work. Don't forget to lock up when you leave!"_

_"I won't, ma! Love you!"_

_"Love you too, Ryuu-chan."_

_The door clicked behind her, and Ryuji checked the time on his phone._

_(( Still got a few minutes. I should get a head start on those chores. Be a good surprise for her when she gets home! ))_

_In a flurry, Ryuji did yesterday's dishes, wiped down their windows, and scrubbed their stove's grease pans. Before he'd realized it..._

_"Shit shit shit, **now** I'm gonna be late!!"_

_In a mad dash, he ran from his apartment, bolting around the corner to the train station--_

_...._

_\--In another mad dash, he returned to his apartment, locked the door this time, then took off again like a bolt of lightning late for the storm._

_Truly, though, other than the ever-present jolt through his bum leg at every footfall (which he could **almost** ignore, sometimes, really) he didn't mind._

_(( The sun is shining, birds are singing, and Ryuji Sakamoto is on top of the world! ))_

 

  
_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

 

 

_Slouching at his desk, Ryuji eyed the clock as it inched closer to the lunch hour. Then, his eyes darted down to the bento on his lap, and the pink flyer he had rolled up in his blazer pocket._

_He grinned to himself, playing over in his mind just how he'd spin his plan to Akira to make it sound as **awesome** as possible._

_(( Yup. It's gonna be a good freaking day ))_

_".....moto..... **SAKAMOTO**!"_

_"....UHHH sorry, teach, what was that?"_

_Inui-sensei grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Get your head out of the clouds please, Sakamoto-kun. I asked you, 'What is the term for "piracy" when it is done through commission, under the express permission of a country's government?'"_

_Ryuji blanked. "Uhhhhhh....."_

_Within him, an irritated voice stirred._

**_(( ~ If you don't know the answer to this, I'm disowning you. ))_ **

_(( Can't disown me if you **are** me, Captain Kidd. ))_

**_(( ~ Touché. Let's see how you look in the Metaverse without pants, then. ))_ **

_(( You **can't.** You **wouldn't?!** ))_

**_(( ~ You're me. What do you think? ))_ **

_(( Shit. ))_

_"I'm **waiting** , Sakamoto-kun."_

_Ryuji wracked his brain frantically, trying to remember....._

_(( If Captain Kidd would know....shit, what was in that book Akira tried to get me to read the other day? He said the Captain was... ))_

_His eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh oh oh I know! It's a privateer!"_

**_(( ~ You can keep your pants.....for now..... ))_ **

_"Hm. Better late then never, Sakamoto-kun. Yes, privateers were......"_

_Still distracted by his impending lunch, Inui's voice became a dull drone in the back of Ryuji's mind once again._

_(( Man....why do we have to friggin study? This all feels so pointless, when we could be out there changing the world. ))_

 

  
_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

 

_"Dude, am I the only one whose Persona talks shit?"_

_"Yup."_

_Ryuji scowled.  "What?!  There's no way that--oh, you're joking, aren't you?  Ha--ha--you're **hilarious**."_

_Lounging in the sunlight of the concrete steps leading up to the school's courtyard, Ryuji stared up at fluffy clouds in a perfect blue sky. Beside him, Akira had opened a thermos, and was chugging coffee like it was going out of style._

_(( That guy looks exhausted. Is that all he brought for lunch? No way he'll have the stamina for training with just that. ))_

_Ryuji frowned at the deep purple circles beneath his best friend's eyes. "Hey, Akira, you uh...you sleepin' okay?"_

_Akira shrugged, pushing up his glasses with one skinny finger. "Yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway."_

_"That all you brought to eat, man? You can share some of my bento, if you want." Ryuji cracked open the plastic container to show him, and a small scrap of paper fluttered out, falling to the ground._

_(( Aw, ma.... ))_

_Before Ryuji could react, Akira stooped to retrieve the paper from the sidewalk. His friend smirked. "Ryuu-chan? Your mom wrote this?"_

_"....yeah. What of it?"_

_Ryuji braced himself for teasing, but to his surprise Akira just smiled. Even more surprising, his smile seemed...weirdly sad. "She must really adore you, huh?"_

_He pressed it back into his hand, and Ryuji finally read it._

**_____________________________________ **

**_☆♡ ✿ がんばって, 竜ちゃん! ✿♡☆_ **

**_____________________________________ **

_In black pen, the words "Ganbatte, Ryuu-chan!" were surrounded by a few scribbled flowers and gold star stickers._

_(( Ma.....love you. ))_

_Ryuji reddened slightly at the cutesy note, knowing that Akira had seen it....even if he didn't seem to be judging._

_"...you're lucky." Akira raised his head, staring up at fluffy, slow-moving clouds._

_Ryuji nodded seriously. "Yeah...I am. Ma's always had my back, you know? Even if we both felt powerless...we were in it together."_

_(( But hey. No. Bro-day. No drama day. Send the angst train back to the station, Ryuji! ))_

_Trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood, Ryuji laughed. "Think Sakura-san would put one in your curry if you asked?"_

_Akira blinked in surprise, eyes wide behind his ridiculously huge glasses. He seemed to consider it for a moment, then burst out laughing. "There's no way. Can you imagine? Boss hand-drawing all of those cute little flowers and hearts? He ever did that, I'd die happy just from the experience, hahaha."_

_(( --! This is my chance! ))_

_"So, uhh...speaking of cute...."_

_"Huh?" Akira watched in confusion as Ryuji unfurled the flyer for the visiting maid service he'd found stuffed in his apartment's mailbox the previous evening. Akira's brow furrowed as he read it, and then, with a ((Snrk!)) he laughed. "What's this? You moonlighting as a maid on the side between thieves jobs?"_

_"WHAT?! No man, what the hell?!" Between the thought of himself in a maid uniform and Akira's cackles, this was not going at all the way Ryuji had planned._

_(( Gotta get this back on course. ))_

_"Dude. No. They're **maids**."_

_Akira raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I see that."_

_Ryuji pointed to a sentence on the flyer. "And it says they'll do **anything**."_

_Akira pursed his lips in consternation, replying, simply, "Uh-huh....well, that's, uh...."_

_(( Time to unveil my grand plan! ))_

_"So, like, there's this empty apartment in my building. The key's in the mailbox, and the manager doesn't care who checks it out."_

_"So......?"_

_(( What is this guy, dense?! Is he really gonna make me spell it out?! ))_

_" **Sooooo** , what if we go there tonight, and find out just what they mean by 'anything?!'"_

_A strange expression flashed across Akira's face, and he looked away. Before Ryuji could try to piece together what it meant, though, a way-too-enthusiastic voice fumbled its way into their conversation._

_"Hey. Uhh. Can I get in on this?"_

_Lurking in a corner of the courtyard, Mishima, of all people, sauntered their way. Best laid plans....Ryuji groaned._

_"Mishima?"_

_Ryuji knew that Mishima ran the Phan-Site, **and** that the guy had a pretty good guess as to their true identities. Despite that leverage, he **seemed** like a fine guy....if you ignored the fact that he'd leaked Akira's criminal record to the entire friggin school. Which, to be fair, was kind of hard to ignore._

_" **Maids?** That will do **anything?** That sounds too good to be true!"_

_(( Well at least one guy's got the right idea. Maybe it isn't so bad that Mishima overhead this. ))_

_"Right?! Akira, you're in, right? C'mon, man, you've got to tell me you're in."_

_Akira seemed to be ignoring him in favor of drowning himself in coffee._

_Instead, Mishima piped up, "Really, we should look into this, for, um, like, justice, right?"_

**_((Pffffffffffttttttt--))_ **

_A gush of coffee erupted from Akira's mouth, spraying the sidewalk. He coughed, having apparently inhaled an indeterminate amount. "Shit, man, you okay?!" Alarmed, Ryuji pounded him on the back, until Akira waved him away, still clutching his thermos._

_Gasping slightly, Akira sputtered, "For **justice?** How in the world could this be for **justice?** "_

_Looking like he thought he was extremely clever, Mishima grinned, "Well, we have to test what they are actually offering through this service, right? What if it is all a lie? Or what if the maids are unhappy with their jobs? I mean, looking out for them, that's **clearly** the right thing to do, yeah?"_

_Suddenly extremely solemn, Akira murmured, "So, they could have been coerced into this line of work....?"_

_(( This is...uhh....not the vibe I was going for. But screw it, if it gets Akira on board??? ))_

_Trying to be convincing, Ryuji added, "Oh yeah, totally. We should look into that. For, um. For justice."_

_Akira shook his fluffy head. "I just don't want to. What would I possibly get out of this?"_

_(( Huh? Oh. ))_

_Ryuji facepalmed._

_(( Ohhhh. Dammit. ))_

_Struggling to rescue his possibly poorly-conceived plan for their evening, he stuttered, "Y--you can be our....uh....chaperone?"_

_"Chaperone...?"_

_Ryuji grimaced, as Mishima added awkwardly, "Yeah. Yeah, uh....safety in numbers? Or something?"_

_Akira buried his face in his hands. "Well, when you put it that way...I guess, somehow, conceivably, this could be dangerous for you two? And it **could** be for justice, if you....like....squint at it?"_

_(( Is it working?! ))_

_"Fine...." Akira groaned. Ryuji could see the hint of a beet-red face peering out from between his friend's fingers. "This sounds like the sketchiest thing I've participated in in my entire life. And **I'm** the one with a criminal record."_

_"So, you're down to go for sure, then?!"_

_Akira nodded, relenting._

_**"All right!"** Ryuji held out his hand for a high five. With a pained look, Akira pressed his palm against Ryuji's. The pact had been sealed._

_With a cheesy thumbs up, Mishima cheered. "We won't let you down!"_

_Ryuji's blood ran cold, as Akira leaned to whisper in his ear, "It's fine...Ryuu-chan."_

_((Hrrrrrrk!))_


	32. Domestic Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, thank you all so much for 200+ kudos! I can't believe so many people have liked this (not so little) fic. In thanks for that milestone, have the truly ridiculous conclusion to Operation Maidwatch!

Akira sat heavily in his chair at the Leblanc's corner, frowning at his curry. From the kitchen, Sojiro grumbled, "Kid, you keep that face up, you're going to scare away customers..."

In the stool to his right, Yusuke turned to him. "You don't have to go, you know."

_Am I being that obvious?_

_Damn it._

Akira took a sip of coffee, then shook his head. "No, I...think I really do have to. Who knows what kind of trouble those two will get up to if I'm not there to...how did Ryuji put it...? 'Chaperone.'" He made air quotes with his fingers to drive in exactly what he felt about _that_ title.

"Besides..." Akira sighed, settling his forehead onto the smooth countertop, resigned. "I feel like I've been neglecting him lately. Between the part time jobs I've picked up, and school..."

"And the time you've spent helping me, yes?" Yusuke added mildly.

Akira smiled at that. "I have no regrets there, though."

"I...I'm glad." Yusuke fell silent at that, though Akira could swear that the tips of his ears had gone red.

_Ever since that moment in Madarame's Palace, we've been dancing around each other so uncertainly. I'd be frustrated, except I'm not any less awkward._

_I know what I **want**...I think._

_But...would it mess with the team, and what we already have?_

_Running off to hire some sketchy maid service definitely isn't going to do me any favors when it comes to making my intentions clear. I hope he doesn't think--_

Yusuke pushed his stool back, startling Akira slightly. Abruptly, he said, "Well, I have some schoolwork to catch up on. If you'll excuse me."

_Yeah, I....definitely have to talk with Yusuke. Just..._

He winced.

_Just not tonight._

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
"Heyyy Akira, do you still have that book on Captain Kidd?"

Hands in his pockets, Akira followed Ryuji and Mishima down a quiet residential street. The sun was just setting, but it was still warm enough that he was beginning to regret wearing his single nice-ish blazer. He'd wanted to look less like.... _himself_ for this, but...

He tugged at his collar, desperate for more air. Was it the weather, or his nervousness that made him feel so choked?

_I really don't want to do this...._

"No, sorry, I returned it to the school library ages ago. Why the sudden interest?"

"Ohhh nothing, just curious."

Akira could have sworn he then heard Ryuji mutter something under his breath that sounded, nonsensically, like _"Can't lose my pants....."_

They paused outside a side entrance of what must be Ryuji's apartment building, and Akira waited while Ryuji fumbled for a keycard. The building looked....surprisingly nice?

_I wasn't sure what I expected, but...I can see how he'd call this home._

A row of balconies spread across the outer wall above them, spilling over with the signs of dozens of lives. Patio furniture, childrens' toys, and the trailing vines of potted plants were illuminated by strings of lights.

_Still....we aren't here for the domestic bliss..._

Under his breath, Akira murmured, "Ryuji if this turns out to be some shady escort service....and we get caught....and my _probation_ gets revoked...you'd better cry for me, got it?"

"Yeah man. I'll cry for you--I mean, _wait_ \--" Flustered, Ryuji dropped his key card. "NONE of that is gonna happen, I swear!"

Beside him, Mishima said, "Wow, I never pegged you for such a pessimist, Kurusu-kun!"

"Is it really pessimism if your worries are based in reality?"

"Except they're totally not, so..."

The door finally unlocked with a ((CLICK)), and the boys headed inside, then up two flights of stairs to the empty apartment in question.

"Wow, this....sure is empty."

"I mean, that's what I said, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess I just thought...."

_So much for plausible deniability. What kind of excuse could I possibly spin for why I'd call a maid to an empty, spotless apartment?!_

With a sigh, he asked, "So. How, exactly, are we doing this?"

Mishima's eyes grew wide. "Right, right, we ah....we have to call the maid now, don't we?"

"Riiiiight. We should get on that."

Akira waited. And waited some more.

..........

All eyes were on him.

_Of course._

Unimpressed, he grumbled, "Give me the damned number."

The world's most awkward telephone call ensued, followed by a tense wait. Mouth dry, Akira watched the plain apartment door, Ryuji and Mishima lurking behind him like he was some sort of maid-proof human shield.

((Tap tap-tap tap!))

At the rap on the door, Akira startled, and Ryuji and Mishima **_bolted_** for the apartment's balcony like their pants were on fire.

"Are you fucking kidding me, guys?!" Akira whirled frantically, just in time to watch the sliding door slam shut. "This was _your_ freaking--"

((Tap **tap-tap** ))

"--aaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhh!" Akira released an overwhelmed half-shout toward the balcony as the next rap on the door was firmer, and more insistent.

_Maybe if I ignore it, she will go away._

Silence.

 _That's right, lady.  Just go away,_ **I** _didn't want to hire a freaking maid, just..._

**((Rap-rap-rap-rap-rapraprap!))**

A voice called through the door, clearly echoing down the long hallway of the apartment building. "Maaaaaster? It's your maid, Becky, here to--"

_Shit, people are going to hear--_

Akira dashed to the door, flung it open, then immediately spun on one foot to face the sliding glass door, really not wanting this maid to see his face.

"Welcome home, Master~" A cheerful voice rang out as the door clicked shut behind the maid. Akira heard the crinkle of a crinoline petticoat. The voice grew closer, and he gulped unhappily. "My name is Becky, and I'll be caring for you today, Master! Nya~"

He sensed a presence looming just behind him, and squeezed his eyes shut.

_Ryuji, how could you leave me to deal with this?!_

"Caring? I--" The maid peeked around his shoulder as he spoke, and he twisted his head to the side, desperate to conceal his identity. He coughed, and started again, intentionally deepening his voice. "Caring how?"

"Well, Master, of course we offer standard cleaning services~"

Attempting to seize on this, Akira stuttered, "Oh, that sounds great, I--"

Becky had padded away in stocking feet to glance into another room in the apartment. Sounding confused, she interrupted, "But you keep a _very_ tidy house already, don't you, Master? ~" A hint of something sly entered her voice, then. "Nya! Perhaps you'd prefer some of our _additional_ services, in that case?~"

Voice croaking, Akira inquired, "Additional.... services?" He regretted the question the instant the words left his lips, as Becky once again sidled up behind him, now trailing one warm hand along the crest of his shoulders.

"Well, you see, for an additional fee, I am ~thrilled~ to provide a caring, loving touch for my Master...."

Akira froze, hands shaking in his pockets.

_I half expected something like this, I **expected** this, I mentally prepared, I--_

Akira held his breath, because suffocating seemed at least slightly preferable to hyperventilating.

The maid continued coyly, trailing a finger down one bicep. "So, _Master_ , is this the sort of service you require?~"

_No. Nonononono just **no.**_

Akira _meant_ to calmly, if stiffly, insist, "No, that absolutely will not be necessary."

Instead, **"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"** erupted from his lips, as he flailed away from her touch. To his chagrin, the words came out in a strangled sort of shout, and Becky jumped in alarm. Apologetically, he mumbled a softened "Uh. That is. I mean. No thank you, ma'am."

"Are you immune to a maid's charms? How can that be, Master?~ "

Flustered, and slightly dizzy from the bizarre, ridiculous, awful situation his friends had abandoned him in, the only thing Akira could think to say was, "I'm....a dad."

Becky's voice turned low and wheedling. "Ohhhh is your wife away? I have to say, that's not very kind, Master, but a maid never judges!~"

_Didn't you just judge there, though? No. No, Akira, that is beside the point, as you are not cheating on your imaginary wife._

"Uh. Yes. My wife, that I have, is away. Away....looking for our cat! Our cat, that I should also be looking for, uh, perhaps I should be going. How could I have forgotten? Yes, I think--" He turned to face the wall, shuffling sideways toward the door.

"Your cat, Master? Shall we look together?~" The maid ducked around again, clearly trying to get a look at his face. "Let's call out to him, nya! What is kitty-chan's name?~"

"Umm.....Mor....ga... nya?" At that last syllable, Akira made a cat paw gesture to really sell it.

.....

The maid fell silent, and Akira prepared to make a swift, strategic advance to the rear.

_I sense impending death._

"I knew it."

_Finally, I feel the legendary fear that comes bundled with the knowledge of one's own mortality._

"Kurusu-kun, turn around this instant."

_Welp. If Boss plans my funeral, I wonder if my parents will come?  Will there be curry there, too?_

Akira turned, heart beating too heavily and slowly to support human life, and finally _really_ looked at Becky.

Becky, who was, it turns out, _not_ Becky, but Sadayo Kawakami, his homeroom teacher at Shujin Academy. In a maid uniform. And cat ears. Looking like she'd just seen a particularly horrifying ghost.

_Ryuji, you're my best friend, but I am going to kill you, and they will never find the body._

"Oh. Uh. Hi, sensei." Akira thought he said those words, but he may have also just oddly squeaked out "Ahhhhhjnjnjwibble...?"

Chewing a lip, eyes sliding to the floor, his teacher murmured disappointedly, "Why....just why would you do this?"

"For...uh.....for justice?" Akira winced weakly, shrugging.

"I...I really don't even want to know what you mean by that."

"So, how did you...?"

"Recognize you?" Kawakami rolled her eyes. "Did you really think I hadn't noticed the cat in your desk? You talk to it all damned day. I just...." She kneaded her brow exhaustedly. "Ms. Chouno has allergies, and I was kind of quietly delighting in watching her makeup run from the watery eyes, so I let it slide."

A whispered, _"Ch...Chouno...is that....?"_ slipped through the balcony doors, and Akira silently recited a prayer for the dead for his idiot friends. Sure enough, not two seconds later...

**"KAWAKAMI SENSEI?!"**

**"SHUT UP, SAKAMO--MMMM-MMPH!!"**

_Well, there's no hiding those morons now. Can't say I didn't try. Although why I **did** try is a question for the ages...._

"Meet my wives." Akira opened the sliding door to the balcony to reveal two betrayed, panicked faces, one struggling to escape from Ryuji's palm slapped across his mouth.

**"Gahhhhhhh, Akira, noooooooooooo! How could you?!"**

**"Mmmmmphnmmmphggggggg!"**

"Oh, come on, guys. The gig is very clearly, obviously, horribly up."

Even worse, at that precise moment, from three balconies away, a kind but frazzled voice called out into the night, "Ryuu-chan! Is that you?" A pause, as a familiar pair of brown eyes settled on the boys on the balcony. Deeper suspicion in her voice, the woman yelled, **"What are you _doing_ over there?!"**

**"Ma?!? Oh shit oh shit oh shit."**

**"LANGUAGE, FOR THE LAST TIME, RYUJI SAKAMOTO! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE UP TO, BUT COME. HOME. NOW."**

Beside Akira, Kawakami's eyes remained on her feet, as she looked ready to sink into the floor and die. "This....this is my life. Of course this is my life. Why _wouldn't_ this happen?"

"I.....um. Sorry, sensei."

"Just....just....I'm leaving now, okay? Before this gets any worse, not that it could get much worse. I'll treat it like you cancelled, so you won't owe anything. And we will **never. speak. of. this. again**."

"S....sounds good, sensei."

With a look that could kill, Kawakami passed one final dagger-filled glance over the roomful of her flustered, doomed teenage students, then flounced through the door, flinging off her kitty ears with a furious final "Nyaaa ** _dammit_**!"

A few moments later, the trio of boys trickled out of the apartment, defeat and horror clear in the depressed set of their shoulders.

"That was horrible."

"Horrible."

"Fucking horrible."

Akira picked up the fallen cat ears, placing them on Mishima's head. "A souvenir for you. That's....um. Quite the look." ((Snrk))

A wrestling match ensued, as they fought over who would be forced to wear the ears. Akira bore the burden in the end.

_They say I lost, but honestly? I can pull them off, so who's the real winner here?_

Ryuji scratched the back of his head, pointing down the hall. "So. Um. Not how I wanted to introduce you to my mom, but....."

The trio marched awkwardly to Ryuji's apartment, where his mother waited just inside the open door, arms crossed.

She gestured inside silently, and the boys crossed the threshold, removing their shoes. As the door swung shut behind them, an ominously level voice asked, "So, Ryuji and....friends....would you like to explain yourselves?"

"Well, uh, ma, you see...the thing is....." Ryuji floundered, and Akira groaned internally. "It's, uh, well, _this guy--_ " The blonde pointed his finger at Akira, who blanched.

_Don't put this on me, you asshole! Aghhh!_

Ryuji's mother turned to Akira, raising an eyebrow. Waiting, silently.

_Well, shit. I guess....play it cool? Somehow?_

As blandly as possible, Akira shrugged. "I live in an attic, and I just wanted to see what a real home looked like?"

Mishima seized on this, and built on it, albeit exceptionally awkwardly, "For....for after high school, he means! You know, to rent....? Um. Together, I guess?"

Ryuji's mother's eyes lit up. "Ohhhhh, are you Akira-kun? Ryuu-chan has told me **so** much about you. So sweet! "

_He....told her about me?_

"Yes, Sakamoto-san, I'm Akira." He shuffled his feet awkwardly at the change in the tenor of her attention.

Far too excitedly, the sweet-looking woman squealed, "So you've finally found yourself a boyfriend, and you're looking for apartments?!  Oh, you two are so **cute** together!"

_Wait, **what** now?!_

Flustered, Akira tried to correct her, while Ryuji pointedly looked anywhere in the room _but_ their direction. "Saka..moto....san... ma'am, uh, you've got it--"

His mother was on a roll, and bulldozed right through his stuttering to turn to Mishima, taking the now blushing Phan-site manager's hands and squeezing them. "And you must be the blue-haired boy he moved in with. Yes, Ryuu-chan told me all about you boys!"

_He's back to "Ryuu-chan" now? How is he already out of trouble? What is **happening** here?!_

It was Mishima's turn to flail verbally. "No, ahh, Sakamoto-san, you've got the wrong blue-haired.....wait--" His eyes flickered to Akira uncertainly, and he mouthed, _"You live with Kitagawa-kun? Are you....."_

Akira gestured in frustration, and Mishima silenced himself with a flinch and an "Eeep!"

With a kind smile, she turned to Akira to impart advice. "Don't move too fast now, boys. I know that it is easy to get swept up, but you should enjoy this early honeymoon time in your relationship for what it is! Oh, I wish the two of you the best of luck!"

"Ma'am, I...I think there's been a mistake here--"

"Oh, no need to be so formal, sweetheart! Call me Chidori, okay?"

"Chidori-san, then. What I was trying to say was--"

"Akira-chan..." She released Mishima from the grip of her soft-looking hands to refocus on her son's cringing best friend. "Ryuu-chan has been so happy since he made friends with you."

"Aw, ma, hey, now--" Ryuji stuttered, reddening.

Her eyes lit up, as if remembering something wonderful. "Sweetheart, you're the one he's been, oh, what is the word for it? At least in my college days, it was "LARPing", with, right?"

"LARPing?"

Mishima tapped his elbow, whispering, _"Live Action Role Playing. She's asking if you--"_

Also whispering, Akira insisted, _"I **know** what **LARPing** is, I just mean--"_

"You know, like this?" she asked sweetly.

He froze in horror at what happened next. Chidori Sakamoto grinned, struck a dramatic stance in the middle of their kitchenette, grabbed her own face, and shouted, at the top of her lungs, **"PERRRRSONAAAAAAAA!"**

**"WHAT. RYUJI WHAT DID YOU DO?!"**

**"AKIRA, I'M SORRY, I SWEAR I DIDN'T--"**

Ryuji's mother slung her arm around a frantic Akira's shoulder with a cackle. "Ohhhh don't be embarrassed sweetheart, there's nothing bad about role playing games! If it was supposed to be your secret, though, I'm sorry. Ryuu-chan has just been **so** cute, practicing his dramatic poses when he thinks I'm not looking."

_((Snrk))_

_Okay, that's hilarious, but_

Akira leveled an unimpressed look at Ryuji. "You've been practicing poses?"

Ryuji looked like he might die on the spot, and his mother was clearly delighting in it. "M...maybe. Um. Y....yeah, OKAY? YEAH, I totally was, and I bet you do it too!"

"I _really_ don't."

She clapped her hands expectantly. "Okay, okay, boys, I have to see it!"

"See.....it??"

"Whatever you've been practicing! You know--" She mimicked tearing her own face off again.

Akira and Ryuji stared into each other's eyes, and saw eternity.

_If this is the only way to escape this fate....._

Akira frowned, a look of grim resolution settling into his countenance. "Okay, Skull, watch my back."

A serious nod, and Ryuji dropped into a low fighting stance. "Y...you've got it, Leader." Akira whirled in his socks, his blazer billowing around him, and back to back with Ryuji they bellowed,

**"CAPTAIN KIDD!"**

**"ARSENE!"**

_**~ ......you called?** _

_No. I mean yes, but no. I mean unless you've got a way to get me out of this._

Akira executed the world's smallest backflip, narrowly missing the Sakamotos' small dining table. Chidori Sakamoto clapped, clearly thrilled. "Oh, you are so _cool_! The kitty ears really tie it together." Despite the situation, Akira's face reddened a little with pride.

_She thinks I'm cool? .......no, Akira, no. This can't go on._

_**~ Might I suggest removing the non-combatant? Although, if you're enjoying yourself, as it seems.....** _

Akira's gaze fell on Mishima, who was staring at him with eyes the size of dinner plates. With his phone out horizontally. Taking video.

_Shit._

"Mishima!"

Mishima flailed, dropping his phone.

"Oh, Akira, I was just--"

" _Leaving_ , right? You were just _leaving_?"

"Huh? No, I--"

Akira shot him a venomous glance.

_Take the goddamned hint, Mishima._

Eyes wide and flickering to Ryuji's mother, Mishima shuffled his feet. "Ohhh, yeah. It's.... _that time_ , isn't it? I have to go to that thing....um...."

Taking a deep breath, Akira sidled up to the floundering blue-haired boy and threw his arm around his shoulder. "Yup, can't forget to do that. I'll walk home with you, okay?"

Clearly disappointed, Ryuji's mother pouted slightly. "Oh, already? But I was _so_ enjoying getting to know you boys."

Politely, Akira apologized. "Yes, I'm sorry, Chidori-san, but we _really_ need to get home."

"Well...if you have to. But I insist that you visit us again some time, okay?" Ryuji's mother smiled, and Akira startled slightly at the genuine affection radiating from the tiny woman.

_She's....really kind. I..._

Blinking away the beginning of an inexplicable tear, face warm, Akira mumbled, "Yeah....okay," and turned for the door, leading Mishima by the elbow.

Ryuji followed him, a look of defeat in his eyes. As the blonde showed them the way out, he whispered tensely, _"Man, seriously, I am so friggin sorry, I can't even--"_

Akira glared directly into his soul. _"You. owe. me."_

As he and Mishima made their way out of the apartment building, finally escaping into the cool night air, Mishima whined, "Why did nobody tell me there was LARPing??"

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

  
_[[ Yusuke glanced up from his sketchbook as the sound of slow, weary footsteps echoed up the attic stairs. Sure enough, moments later, Akira's fluffy head appeared, bedecked with--_

_"Cat....ears? A novel approach to fashion, I must say."_

_Looking confused for a moment, Akira patted his head, then groaned as his fingers brushed the frilly, cat-eared maid headband nestled into the fluff of his wild hair._

_Flatly, he stared at Yusuke, curling his hands into twin cat paws. "Nya."_

_"Marvelous!"_

_The two stared at each other from across the attic. Then, slowly, somewhat hysterically Akira burst into a fit of ridiculous giggles. His laughter was so contagious, Yusuke found himself joining him. Still chuckling, he dropped his homework, then crossed the attic to settle onto the edge of Akira's bed._

_Wiping his eyes, Akira gasped, "I'm sor--I'm sorry, but Yusuke, you have no idea how much I needed that laugh."_

_Yusuke shook his head, smiling. He hadn't really realized how lonely he'd been while working in the attic, until the moment that changed with Akira's simple presence. Now..._

_"Please, tell me all about it!" ]]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How soon is now" blooper reel:
> 
> Akira flung open the door, to see a maid standing on the doorstep, grey eyes glowering, short blue hair pulled back into tiny twin pigtails. 
> 
> ((Wait, is this a *crossdressing* maid service?!))
> 
> With the world's most sarcastic curtsey, the teenage boy grumbled flatly, "Hi. I'm Mina, and I'm here to clean your gutters."


	33. Somewhere New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madarame's confession airs, a confrontation in Shibuya leaves someone shaken, and a pair of thieves do their best to support each other regardless of how hapless they may be.

Akira sat at his favorite spot at the counter in Leblanc, laughing behind his hand....because Yusuke had seated himself _on_ the counter in Leblanc.

_The only thing that could make that pose more perfect would be those cat ears._

He briefly contemplated running back upstairs to retrieve them. With Yusuke in his "art zone," would he even notice if Akira snuck them on his head? It was tempting...

Eyes alight and darting repeatedly from his sketchbook to the cafe's morning clientele, Yusuke perched unsteadily, lanky legs spilling over the edge. One knee bumped the pristine row of coffee cups (that he has _just_ washed himself, last night), and Akira winced.

"How has Boss not killed you yet, Yusuke?"

"H...hmm?" The artist made a distracted sound, glancing at Akira momentarily before returning to his work. From the rear of the cafe, Sakura spun around at Akira's words.

"Killed him for what?--wait, _are you serious, kid?!_ **NOT AGAIN, YUSUKE. GET YOUR ASS OFF MY COUNTER."**

Painfully breaking his focus, Yusuke twisted his torso to face Sojiro Sakura. Raising his sketchpad into his host's line of sight, he insisted, "But this is the optimal angle for capturing the beauty of your clientele."

Sakura raised an eyebrow, peering at the sketch, as one of his regular customers squealed happily, "Our beauty?! Oh, Sakura-san, if this keeps up, I'll never leave!"

Akira leaned over the counter to catch a glimpse of his work. It was...gorgeous, even if not what he'd expected. Seemingly abandoning realism, Yusuke had instead captured the _energy_ of Leblanc, all warm, smooth lines and comforting folds, gentleness and familiarity. The customer in question was a dumpling-shaped blob of soft orange, sinking into her seat like a single favorite ingredient in a perfectly balanced soup.

_It's amazing, in its way... but, uh...._

Akira smirked to himself.

_Probably not what that lady is imagining._

The cafe's bemused proprietor groaned, then gestured to a storage closet nestled in a far corner of the kitchen.

"You going to turn my shop into some snooty art cafe? Though....I guess there are worse things...." Sakura glanced at the restored Sayuri he'd allowed Yusuke to hang in an out of the way corner, beginning to trail off. Then, catching himself, he restarted firmly, "But you still can't sit on the damned counter, kid!"

Still sketching away, Yusuke murmured without raising his eyes, "Then...what...would you suggest, Sakura-san?"

Sakura pointed at the storage closet more vigorously, then scowled as he realized that Yusuke was entirely unaware of his gesturing. Turning to Akira, he ordered, "Dig the ladder out of that closet for him. If he absolutely has to sit up high, well, whatever, as long as he isn't bothering customers, but--"

Still blushing, the middle-aged woman from before called out, "Oh, quite the opposite, Sakura-san! I must say, having these cute boys around has been a breath of fresh air in this stuffy old place!"

Sakura's eyes widened in bewilderment. "Stuffy?!" He shook his head, turning back to Akira, who was digging through the storage closet, tugging at a large, silver folding ladder. "Ughh. Anyway, kid. Set it up for him somewhere out of the way, and then wipe down that counter!"

_Why do **I** have to clean off the counter, when Yusuke is the one who sat on it?!_

"Yeah, sure thing, Boss...."

He set it up beside the wall-mounted television, hoping silently that Yusuke wouldn't find the nearness of the murmuring device too irritating.

_Although it seems like absolutely nothing will break his focus today..._

To test that, Akira called out, "Yusuke, you need to move over here!"

He waited.

Yusuke continued to sketch.

Akira groaned, walking over to stand in front of the artist. "Yusuke?" He waved a hand.

Yusuke craned his head to look around him....and continued sketching.

_Okay, now this is just ridiculous._

Akira placed one hand on each side of Yusuke's thin face and squeezed, slowly rotating the boy's head so that he was, finally, facing him. _That_ got his attention, at least.

Confused, Yusuke raised an eyebrow, somewhat hilariously considering the smushed state of his features. "A....Akira?" He reddened slightly, eyes flickering up and down Akira's face.

Eyes humorously wide, Akira pressed his lips together seriously, then mimicked him. "Yusuke?"

"I...ah....yes?"

"Boss needs you off the counter. Now." For evidence, he pointed to his guardian, who was staring at them from behind the counter, arms crossed over his pink apron, looking surprisingly good-humored, but also clearly waiting.

Distressed, Yusuke held out his sketchpad. "But, my...."

"Situational awareness is a skill that you _really_ need to work on, Yusuke. But come on." Akira smiled, taking one of Yusuke's hands with a tug toward the ladder. As he did so, he took note of the condition of the fingers laced with his own. The few that had been injured during his awakening seemed to finally have healed, though one fingertip still looked raw, fresh, and too-pink.

_That one will be a scar. Maybe forever..._

His face gentled as Yusuke delightedly accepted his new seat. "This vantage point...it is ideal, in a way. An uncommon view of the commonplace. Yes, I can work here!" He climbed quickly to the peak--a little too quickly, and Akira reached an arm out to steady the ladder, worried that it would topple.

_I wonder how many scars we will all have, by the end of this?_

He prodded his ribs reflexively, even though that particular wound had healed a while ago. The only evidence that remained was a small indent in the bone of his rib, noticable only if he was really, _really_ feeling for it.

_Will they all be worth it?_

Spindly legs draped down half the length of the ladder, Yusuke's eyes were bright, rapt with attention. If Akira wasn't deceiving himself, his complexion was slightly warmer than it had been even a week ago.

_Takemi's mystery vitamins must be doing **something** for him. He still isn't eating as much as I'd like, though..._

Akira wiped down Leblanc's counter quickly, before he could forget, then returned to settle on a lower rung of the ladder, resting his head on Yusuke's knee. If the artist noticed him, he didn't make it known.

_But, still...this is nice. For once, things feel so simple.._

He closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet. A few minutes passed, as he sank into the mesmeric calm of the TV murmur, interspersed with the rhythmic scratching of pencil on paper.

Something warm was pressed into Akira's hands, and he looked down to see his glasses reflected in a fresh cup of coffee. Sakura gave him the sneakiest smile, then ruffled his hair. "Jeez, how can you be this tired? It's 10AM! Maybe this'll wake you up."

Akira raised the cup, nodding. "Thanks, Boss."

"Don't mention it."

Nose buried in the steaming cup, glasses fogged, Akira felt a little curl of unfamiliar emotion warming his chest. Something small, and fragile, and desperate for nurturing.

_I think I'm...happy._

_I think..._

He gripped his coffee tighter, listening to Sakura take orders. To the creak of the ladder as Yusuke bent to glance into a far booth. To boiling water in a percolator, to a quietly gossiping elderly couple. To the jingle of a bell that had, without his noticing it, become the sign that he was returning to where he belonged.

_I think...if I could choose what "home" was...I'd choose this._

Eyes still closed, he sighed into his cup.

_I want to keep this. I--_

_\--what?!_

Akira's eyes shot open as, from the indistinct murmur of the news, a familiar name emerged: _".....ryusai Madarame, now we bring you to....."_

"Boss? Boss?!"

"What is it, kid?"

"Turn it up! Please, turn it up."

Sakura's eyes widened as he read the scrolling news bar, and he fumbled with an ancient-looking remote control. The volume rose abruptly, and Yusuke's focus broke. He twisted, shaking the ladder--Akira suspected that without his weight to stabilize it, it would have fallen.

In silent, solemn raptness, Yusuke stared into his former teacher's pixelated eyes, broken into the television color spectrum of red, blue, and green, inches away from his own pale face.

Akira set his coffee on the floor, then reached a hand up to grip a calf, hoping to steady him. He could feel his tremors reverberating through the metal ladder, and he held his breath, silently hoping that he could send Yusuke strength through some sort of mental osmosis.

_Now is the moment._

_Now we learn....did we do right by him?_

He was at a strange angle for viewing the television screen, so he focused on Yusuke's face instead, as Madarame's vaguely distorted voice washed over them. For now, those were the only two things in this world. A monster's self-centered grief, and his foster son's ashen face.

_"I....feel I must confess to grievous acts unbecoming of an artist and a mentor. So many people looked to me as a beacon, and I....in truth, I've betrayed them all."_

_((CRACKK))_

Something fell into Akira's hair, and he shook his head. A splintered shard of wood spun to the ground, graphite peeking through its remains like a frail, blackened bone. Yusuke had gripped his pencil so rigidly that it snapped. Akira stooped briefly to pick it up, staining his own fingers grey. Mindlessly, he placed the fragment in his pocket.

 _"Over the years of my career, I cannot count the number of people who came to me, declaring that 'my' art had inspired them. Or strengthened them. That it opened their heart. And I...."_ Madarame's voice broke, and Yusuke's dark eyes widened, reflecting the glimmering trails of his former teacher's tears.

_ "I laughed at each and every one of them. All of you. All of you who came to me and said, 'Your works brought me hope....' In the privacy of my true life, I mocked you, and your foolishness." _

_"For, you see, it was never I who brought you that emotion. My maiden work, the Sayuri, was stolen from one of my first students. Her name was Izumi Kitagawa--" _At this name, Yusuke half hissed, half gasped, and Akira gripped his friend's pants leg tighter in silent solidarity. _"--and she was.....she was.....no, it is not my right to define her..I've taken too much already. Let her name stand for itself."_

_ "So, you see, I did not create my so-called 'maiden work.' I...I have never created anything worthwhile in my entire miserable life. I am here to declare that I, Ichiryusai Madarame, am a fraud, and a plagiarist, and am undeserving of the title of artist, or teacher, or...or...." _

A choked sob broke the air. Madarame's--Yusuke remained breathless. Watching, waiting.

_ "....or of 'father.' I've exploited my students for years. I've stolen their talents, their futures, and for no reason other than my own petty vanity. At least one was driven to suicide, and at that time, I felt no remorse. I thought, 'That's the way it should be, when a tool has expended its use.' And I..." _

Yusuke's face twisted with grief, and Akira's own features hardened. This man had destroyed Yusuke's peers, his friends, his _mother,_ and he'd nearly swallowed him whole too.

_And for **what?!**_

_We heard this from his shadow as well, but somehow, it is even more gut wrenching to witness this bile spilling from his own throat. I...._

_ "I was prepared to drive another child into the ground. To use him up, and destroy him." _

Akira's furious heart blinded him, until all he could see was Yusuke's pale face, filtered through a haze of red.

_I hate that man. I hate him, and we saved or redeemed him in a way, and I **hate him.**_

The ladder shook as Yusuke crumpled inward, arms and head and sketchpad in a messy tangle draped over his lap. Akira squeezed his eyes shut, willing his surging emotions to recede.

_But this isn't about my anger. This was Yusuke's choice, and that makes it the right one. I hope..._

Hollowly, Madarame continued.

_ "Perhaps, if I've done nothing else, here, at this point of self-destruction, I've ended this ruse in time to allow him to find his own future." _

_"I'm sorry, Yusuke. I was never a father to you. But I should have been."_

_"That's all. Please--"_

_((Tzzzzzttt))_

_ "...that was Ichiryusai Madarame, speaking at a press conference called for the--" _

((Click.))

 **. . .**  
**. .**  
**.**

The screen went black, and Akira glanced up to see Sojiro standing, arm outstretched. He'd shut off the television, and was eyeing Yusuke with such a poignant look of empathy that Akira felt a lump rise in his throat.

"I think....I think that's enough of that, kid. How about you come down from there now. You prefer tea, right?" Sojiro gently set the remote back on its home on the shelf, then bustled into the kitchen, the clink of glasses serving as proof that he was preparing the drink.

From above himself, Yusuke finally croaked, "Tea...yes, I....I...." His voice cracked, and Akira rose to his feet in time to see the first tears spill from the artist's reddened, glossy eyes, in a look of terrible catharsis. Face twisted in torment, Yusuke swayed alarmingly at the peak of the ladder, and Akira held up a hand to help him down.

Yusuke didn't seem to see it. Instead, he stared at the sketchpad in his hands, and the ragged hole he had rent in his depiction of Leblanc while snapping his pencil. Akira plucked the remaining fragment from between long, limp fingers, stuffing it in his pocket to join the rest of its wooden corpse.

"You broke it."

Seeming confused, Yusuke replied, slowly and sadly, "Yes. It was the last of its type that I'd brought from Madarame's home. I broke it, and now it's....gone."

_What can I even say to him?_

_I feel so inadequate...but...I'm the one who is here with him now, and so--_

"Some things are meant to be broken. Some things...." Akira swallowed, then continued. "Some things aren't meant to be taken with us into the future. That doesn't mean that they were all bad. That we didn't need them, at some point...." He eyed the hole in what had been a soft, remarkable portrait of the cafe they'd come to share as home. "All we can do is say goodbye, and then move forward as best we can."

"To recognize something that had been my eternal present as having become a fragment of the past...?" Yusuke finally accepted a hand down from the ladder, before withdrawing a familiar tin box from his pocket. He held out one shaky hand to Akira who, sensing what he wanted, retrieved the fragmented pencil, handing it over.

Yusuke closed the door on his life with Madarame with a small metal ((click)), as the tin swallowed the broken pieces...and gave them somewhere to rest.

"Here, kids. Sit down."

Sakura gestured to their regular seats at the counter, and twin, steaming mugs, one dark with fresh coffee, one green and bright. Akira handed over his previous, now-tepid cup, then settled in beside his friend.

Silently, Yusuke plucked at the blue fringe of his hair, blinking back tears. The bell jingled as Leblanc's last customer wandered out, and Akira remembered for the first time that they'd had an audience for all of that.

_Yusuke..._

Perhaps the same thought on his mind, Yusuke rotated the sketchpad he'd flopped onto the counter, tracing the outline of the dumpling-shaped woman with one slow finger. Then, the hole he'd torn through his own favorite seat. Frowning, he tore the sketch from the book, beginning to crumple it. "I ruined this, too, and I--"

Akira opened his mouth to interrupt, but to his surprise, Sakura beat him to it. "Hey, quit that! I liked that, you know!"

Yusuke paused, looking a little stunned. "You liked it? But it...." He frowned at the paper in his hand. "It wasn't very good, anyway."

Sakura leaned over the counter, then insisted gruffly, "Just because something you made wasn't perfect...that doesn't mean you have to destroy it. If you don't want it though, I'll keep it."

Dark eyes darted back and forth over creased paper. "Why would you....?"

"Hand it over, kid."

Silently, Yusuke did so, and Sakura uncrumpled the sketch, carefully smoothing it out against the counter with one rough hand. "There we go..." He turned, and then affixed it to Leblanc's refrigerator with a promotional magnet from Yongen's recreational batting cages. Hands on his hips, he leaned back to survey it, smiling gently.

From beside Akira, Yusuke murmured uncertainly, "I'll...be sure to redraw it someday. So you can replace that."

Sakura shook his head. "No, this will do just fine. It's the one you made right here, today, isn't it? Every time I look at it, I'll remember the goofy-ass kid who tried to sit on my countertop for art."

Akira nodded in agreement, handing Yusuke a napkin to dry his eyes with. "That's right. It's more than a picture. It's a memory now. And that's worth more than perfection."

Slowly, Yusuke's eyes closed, and his thin lips turned up into the smallest, most tentative smile. "I see. That's...you're absolutely right. How could I have forgotten?" He sipped his tea, then leaned forward against the counter, arms crossed. "You seem determined to restore a great number of things that I thought I'd lost."

Akira leaned to press his own shoulder against Yusuke's, then hummed quietly. "Mmm...I think you're the one who is doing the finding. You just needed a little push."

"Still...it is your remarkably steady hand that did the pushing. Thank you." Akira reddened at that, burying his face in the white cotton of Yusuke's dress shirt. To his surprise, his shoulder was...warm. Although still a bit too bony to really rest a head on comfortably.

Akira laughed into Yusuke's shoulder, embarrassed. Under his breath, he murmured, _"How did I become the steady one...?"_ He didn't think Yusuke would hear him, but when a hand slowly met his own beneath the counter...

_Maybe he did...._

Sojiro Sakura coughed, and with regret, Akira pulled his head away. Sakura's eyes darted back and forth between the two boys, before finally, he grumbled, "Do I need to give _you two_ that talk? About....being....saf--"

Curiously, Yusuke inquired, "A talk? What is it that you--"

Akira jumped in, mortified, "For the last time, Boss, _no_."

"But, I've found his words so helpful today! I think I'd truly enjoy--"

Bright red now, and entirely unable to conceal it, Akira insisted, "You really, really would not."

Awkwardly, Sakura fiddled with his apron strings. "If you say so. Anyway..." Seeming thrilled to drop the topic, he dug in his pocket, withdrawing his wallet. Taking out a few bills, he slid them across the counter to Yusuke.

"What's this?"

"You broke your pencil, right...? Why don't you boys go find something to replace it. And grab some lunch while you're out, got it?"

"But, Sakura-San! I couldn't possibly accept--"

Sakura smiled then, holding the bills down on the counter with a single heavy palm. "Don't want to owe me, huh? You can work it off, then. It's about time you learned to make a cup of coffee."

Yusuke's eyes widened, then crinkled with happiness. Excitedly, he replied, "Truly?! I'll admit, I've been fascinated with the process. The method escapes me, but in watching you, it has seemed like its own form of art!"

_Boss is going to teach Yusuke, too? That's..._

_No, don't be jealous, Akira. He has a place here just as much as you do. You wanted that for him, after all. Now, it'll just be something you can do **together**._

_That's...it's good._

Akira smiled, then, squeezing Yusuke's hand under the counter. "You could make latte art!"

Turning to Akira, seeming breathless from the possibility, Yusuke insisted, "Explain!"

Akira dug out his phone, pulling up an image search for the most elaborate art made of milk foam and espresso that he could find. Though he still looked understandably wan, Yusuke's face brightened at the images, and Akira couldn't help but feel warmed by his friend's enthusiasm.

_Despite everything he's been though, he's still here, and able to smile. I hope he never loses this._

"So, ready to go spend your advance wages? Where do you like to buy art supplies?"

For a moment, Yusuke's face darkened again, and Akira wished he'd kept his mouth shut longer to enjoy the moment. Passing back Akira's phone, he replied, "I...had a favorite shop, near the atelier. But considering the current circumstances..."

"Somewhere new, then?"

The cloud passing, Yusuke smiled again, nodding. "Yes. I'd like that. There's a shop I've never been to in Shibuya. Would you, by chance, be willing to accompany me?"

"I'd love to. Let me grab Morgana, and we'll take off."

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

 

 

      **Ann** : Hey, is Yusuke doing okay?

      **Ryuji** : yeah, saw that shit on TV just now. That was intense. Guess that means it's all over, huh?

Balancing a handful of selected art supplies awkwardly in the crook of his elbow, Akira tapped out a reply.

      **Akira** : I think he'll be okay. We're out in Shibuya for now. We should all meet up again sometime soon, though. After class tomorrow?

      **Ann** : Sounds good!

      **Ryuji** : don't gotta tell me twice! I'll be there

  
_That's set, then. We need to decide on our next move. Not that I'm in a huge hurry, personally..._

He sighed, adjusting his glasses, then stared around the blindingly colored and disorganized supply store he'd found himself guided around for the past hour and a half.

Akira had felt a little lost in the specialty shop that Yusuke brought him to--a pencil looked like a pencil, and though he could tell that some were, perhaps, more expensive or high quality than others, he had no real sense for what would make one preferable to another.

Yusuke waxed poetic about lead hardness, shade value, the feel of weight in one's hand. That last, at least, he understood. Although perhaps he shouldn't be mentally comparing a pencil to a dagger....

"What do you think, Morgana?" Akira held up two nearly identical brush-tipped pens for his furry friend's inspection. Morgana peeked his head through the zipper of his school bag, eyeing them intently. He shook his head, and a tiny pink nose receded back into the darkness. Muffled, he replied, "I don't know. What difference would it make to me? I don't have thumbs out here."

_Was it my imagination, or did he sound a little....frustrated?_

_...then again, who **wouldn't** be frustrated to only have thumbs in the Metaverse?_

"You will someday though, right? So it is worth it to form opinions about things. Then, when you regain your true form, you'll be prepared to leap into things headfirst!"

The bag morphed slightly, as Morgana appeared to flop over within it. Akira tugged it more securely onto his shoulder, waiting.

"Yeah. That's true. Well...." A pair of too-blue eyes flashed in the darkness, directed at his hand. "I like the yellow one, then."

Akira laughed a little at that. "I don't think we were supposed to decide based on the color of its casing. But then, I don't know any better either, so I guess that's as good a basis for a decision as any. How about I buy them both? I'll keep the red one, and I'll set the yellow one aside for you."

"Really?!" Morgana sounded genuinely happy, if a little baffled.

"Yeah. Come on, let's catch up to Yusuke and check out."

Pockets considerably lighter (Yusuke had many skills, but budgeting was not one of them, and Akira had pretty heavily supplemented Sojiro's contribution) they exited the specialty store, bags in hand.

"Shall we return to Leblanc, then? I confess, with these new tools in hand, my head is spinning with the possibilies!"

Yusuke looked genuinely thrilled, but....

_He's awfully pale still. Is his head spinning "with possibilities" or with anemia?_

Akira eyed him, deciding in the end that it was about a 50/50 chance either way.

"Mmm, I'm not ready to go back yet. And we did promise Boss we'd grab lunch while we were out. Anywhere sound good to you?"

Yusuke frowned a little, considering. "Something light, I suppose."

_Of course._

"Well....." Akira thought. "There's a diner a few blocks away. They have a fruit tea there that is supposed to be good for your skin? It's probably a marketing trick, but even so, it's pretty good. The food there is comforting, too."

"I like tea."

"I know."

Akira smiled lightly, tugging on the plastic bag that swayed from Yusuke's hand. "Come on. We can cut through a few alleys to get there more quickly. If I remember right, it's just past Iwai's shop."

Following him as he darted down a skinny path behind a series of shops, past loading docks and half broken down wooden pallets, Yusuke inquired, somewhat cautiously, "Iwai...that's your nighttime employer, yes?"

"Mmm, yeah."

"What is it you do for him, precisely?"

"Oh, I mostly pick up around the shop. Sometimes I paint model guns for him. Not the really nice ones though--he doesn't trust me with those yet, and, to be honest, he shouldn't. Maybe you can give me some tips one of these nights." Akira laughed self-deprecatingly. Then, he threw in, in a joking tone, "Last time, though, he had me spy on someone I'm 95% sure was in the mafia!"

Yusuke stopped in his tracks, clearly alarmed. "You **_what?!_ **Please tell me that was in jest."

From his path, twining through their feet, Morgana piped up, "He is, unfortunately, not kidding."

Akira hadn't anticipated quite that level of worry, and tried to backpedal. "Hey, it really wasn't anything dangerous! I literally just sat in a restaurant booth with my phone on." He forced a laugh, fiddling with his hair awkwardly.

"And if the man you recorded had caught you? Was this.... _friend_ of yours prepared to step in?"

Akira opened his mouth to reply, only realise that he didn't really have an answer for Yusuke.

_**Would** Iwai have stepped in? I mean, I'd have done it either way, but....huh. I guess I never thought to ask._

Reassuringly, he lied, "I'm sure he would have. He was waiting nearby, anyway."

"I see." Yusuke looked grim, as they slowly continued their trek toward the diner.

Akira's stomach twisted unhappily. He'd been trying to joke. He hadn't meant to sour the mood. "What's wrong? I...I'm sorry for bringing it up. It's just so normal for me at this point that I didn't think twice."

"Normal to you. Like your other job, with that doctor?"

_Right. Yusuke hadn't seemed very happy about that either. But what am I supposed to do? I'm just doing what needs to be done. These connections are necessary!_

_Why does he sound so accusatory?!_

Defensively, Akira shot back, "What choice do I have? We need medicine. We need weapons. So--"

Sharply, Yusuke interrupted him, "--so, you poison yourself for the team, and you throw yourself into mob politics for the team. And the others...they're all aware of this, yes?"

"Well, that's...."

Hands clenched at his sides, Yusuke blurted with surprising force, "I don't intend to be your secret keeper! Not for things like this--"

_What?! Where is this coming from?!_

"--Hey, it's not a secret! I know too!" Morgana broke in.

_Right?! That's....yes, thank you, Mona._

Akira nodded firmly, seizing on Morgana's words. "That's right. It isn't that it is a secret, really. It's just....they never asked, so I never told them. Is that so bad?" He shrugged, looking away.

_They'd get it, wouldn't they? Like Morgana does?_

"The team comes first. I'm sure the others would understand that."

"I wonder...." Yusuke turned to him, seeming to pick him apart with a piercing gaze. "You do realize that you, yourself, are an invaluable part of that very team, yes?"

_I....._

Akira swallowed heavily. He didn't have a response, and that fact allowed a sense of helpless irritation to rise to the surface. "Why are you being so intense about this?" He gripped his hands into fists, willing them not to shake. "Why are you getting on my case?! I'm just doing what I need to do!"

"Why am I....?!" Yusuke raised his voice suddenly, and Akira couldn't help but shrink back slightly. "Do you _really_ not know? Are you--"

**"Trouble in paradise, kids?"**

The trio whirled at the unexpected voice, Morgana darting to slink behind Akira's feet, back against the alley wall. They'd made it nearly to Untouchables by now, and Akira vaguely recognized the faces before him. This pair of men lurked in the alleys just off the main street pretty frequently, but they'd never spoken to him before. Other kids though? Now that he thought about it....

Akira shook his head, scooped up Morgana, then instinctively stepped between the strangers and Yusuke.

_Even if he's getting on my nerves right now....this has been a crazy day for him. He doesn't need this._

"No, there isn't any trouble. We were just going."

To his slight frustration, Yusuke darted forward to stand precisely at his side, matching him step for step as he attempted to walk past the pair of men. The men made no move to step aside, however. Instead, they purposefully blocked the boys, and the larger of the two smirked.

"Hey now, no need to be in such a hurry. We just wanna talk to you for a second."

Akira's back was to the wall, now, and he ground his teeth, darting his eyes along the alley in search for an easy escape route. There _were_ a few stray fire escapes, but the nearest one was on the other side of the men...

_And would I be able to get up there with Morgana in tow? Would Yusuke? I'm agile enough, but not nearly as strong as I am in the Metaverse._

As he thought, Yusuke said shortly, "We have nothing to say. We'll be on our way, now."

Waving one hand in a sarcastic mockery of politeness, as if to say, _'simmer down! you're overreacting!'_ the smaller, blonde man piped up more smoothly, "I promise, just a minute of your time. You guys just seemed like you were having a bit of trouble."

"Trouble? I assure you, there's no--"

As they spoke, the two men slowly advanced, and Akira felt his pulse race as he realized just how trapped they were. Back against a brick wall, in a lonely alley with no view yet of the main street. If he yelled, would Iwai hear him from within the shop? It was still about a block and a half away, and--

The oily voice continued, and Akira was reminded uncomfortably of his encounter, months back, with the Incubus shadow. "Oh, everybody's got troubles, kid. Home troubles, romance troubles, money troubles...." He reached a ring-covered hand out to pat Yusuke's shoulder, a glint in his eye, and Akira--

_Heart beating beating beating **beating**_

_No, I--!_

Through gritted teeth, he ground out, "Get your hand off of him."

Raising an eyebrow and his hands, the man backed away a single step, chuckling like it was the easiest, smallest thing in the world. Like it was a joke between friends.

"Akira, I'm fine, please calm down, it's--"

_Calm down...?!_

With Yusuke's words, Akira realized for the first time that he was shaking visibly. Yusuke stepped toward him, pressing his side into Akira's so that they stood, arm to arm, with no space for anyone to come between them.

The larger man shook his head. "Whatever, kid. You're the one who's missin' out...."

The ringed man agreed ruefully. "You'll regret it, down the line. But if you change your mind..." He dug in the front pocket of his garishly patterned button-down shirt, withdrawing a business card.

With a smirk, he leaned forward to tuck it into Akira's hoodie pocket. Face so close that he could feel his breath on his cheek, the man murmured, "For _when_ you change your mind. Play coy all you like, but I've watched you hustle around town. You need money, there's easier ways, and I've got just the line of work for you. Trust me." The man's eyes flickered up and down Akira's body, and he felt a cold pit of dread well up within him.

_**[[ A voice that tore at him in his memories like broken glass murmured, in a sly, overly friendly way, "....it's just a part time job, really. And you need the money."** _

_**"From what I've been told, you have quite a debt to repay, Aki-kun. But someone like you....oh, I know a perfect fit when I see it. Trust me." ]]** _

_"N...no. No, get away from me."_

He tried to say it, to _shout_ it, but the words wouldn't come out. His heart beat so wildly that he thought he'd be sick from the dizziness. He thought he was breathing, but was he sure....?

"It's just a feeling I get...but I think you'd be perfect for it."

Akira's eyes widened as the color drained from his face. He needed to move, to run, to deny everything, to get Yusuke away, to--

_Why can't I move?!_

Airless, he felt like he was floating above himself, watching a scene from some horrible drama unfold.

_Why me? What is it about me that would....that would make him think that? Why m--_

**"MUST you be so crude?"**

Yusuke's sharp voice in his ear brought him back into his body. Akira stared up at his friend, and was shocked by the sheer fury he found twisting his usually impassive features.

"Yusuke...I...." he started weakly, but couldn't continue, his breath still half-stolen.

The larger man started forward, but Yusuke didn't shrink back. "What was that? What'd you call us?"

Looking down his nose at the pair, Yusuke answered coldly, "You heard exactly what I said. We have no business with you, and I must insist that you leave."

"You little shit! You've got no right ordering us about."

"Perhaps. But I'll have you know that I'm not afraid to make a scene, if need be." He held out his phone, his thumb poised to dial a number.

One man spit, silently scowling. The other clenched a fist. "Whatever. We don't need trouble like this, when we were just tryin' to offer up an opportunity. C'mon. We'll find someone more grateful."

As the men stalked away, Akira lowered himself to the ground on shaking legs, then sat, head between his knees.

_Breathe. What was it Takemi said? In for eight, hold for seven, out for four? Or was it, or was it....the other way around? I....I...._

The crunch of gravel beside him, and the press of a warm body against his side made him open his eyes. "Yu..." He swallowed heavily, held his breath for a moment, then finished, "Yusuke?"

Slowly, calmly, Yusuke spoke. "They're gone. Are you..." He peered down into his eyes, face etched with worry. "Are you all right?" he asked, gently, in the end.

Akira's mind swam with embarrassment and guilt. This wasn't what he'd wanted to give Yusuke this day. This, the beginning of a fight earlier...

_Why?? Why am I like this...?_

He reddened, and said nothing, instead silently nodding into his knees. Yusuke waited silently, and Morgana crawled under his knees to sit. His presence, too, was a surprising comfort.

Quietly, the not-cat spoke up. "I'm sorry I wasn't more help. I....I hate knowing that when I'm in this form, all people will hear is dumb meowing. So I froze. But I...." He flattened his body out miserably, chin digging into the sidewalk. "I could have...I dunno... _bit him_ or something."

A little more calmly now, Akira reached down to place a hand between Morgana's furry black shoulders. "No, I...don't blame yourself. It wasn't even that bad. I...I shouldn't have frozen like that."

"Why did you, then?" Yusuke's voice held no judgment. As Akira looked up at him, he saw that his face didn't, either. Just kind concern, and a hint of something that he couldn't quite define, hidden behind a sleek fringe of blue hair.

Akira sighed. What could he even say?

Miserably, he muttered into his knees, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's just, that whole situation reminded me of something, and I..." He trailed off, afraid of saying too much.

Gently, Yusuke prodded him, "Reminded you of what, if I may ask?"

Akira shook his head. "I...don't want to--aghhh!" A splitting pain shot through his head, like an ice pick had lodged itself directly behind his right eye, and was twisting, twisting--

Hissing between his teeth, he clutched his head, shoulders slumping. Eyes squeezed shut, he was surprised to feel a hand on his forehead. Yusuke had reached over, then quickly moved his warm palm, first feeling his cheek, and then his hands. "Are you all right?...You're freezing."

_Am I?_

Akira had noticed that he was shaky, but as disconnected as he felt from his body at times like this, he hasn't realized....he shivered, realizing that his lips were numb.

"Just a little lightheaded."

"Let's go inside somewhere. Something warm to drink, perhaps?"

"Okay."

Unsteadily, he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Morgana lead the way to the familiar diner, white-tipped tail a welcome beacon for his still-wincing eyes.

_This headache came out of nowhere. Stress, I guess._

_Mortifying._

At the entrance to the cafe, Morgana paused, looking regretful. "I know I'm not allowed in here, and I don't want to make him carry me right now. I...I'll wait for you two at the cafe, all right?"

Akira nodded, trying to smile. "Sounds good."

Morgana flashed a single, worried glance at him before turning and darting off through the crowded city streets. Within seconds, he'd been swallowed up.

_I feel so useless at moments like this. I've worried them all over again. Come on, Akira, pull yourself together._

He exhaled, willing himself to push the moment out of his mind and into the past.

_I can do this. Just breathe it away._

_..._

_That's it._

"So....fruit tea?" He laughed, and it came out more shuddery than he liked, but Yusuke seemed to accept it. Rather than question him further, he held the door open for Akira, gesturing inside.

"Tea still sounds marvelous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhh. I'm so torn about what to do for my next chapter. Do I want to actually write out their diner scene, and have a little romantic progression? Or do I want to procrastinate on that a bit, and have it happen further on (when I'd originally planned)? 
> 
> So if the next chapter takes a bit, it is because I am being wishy-washy. T__T. 
> 
> 85% set on waiting, for now.
> 
> Also, side note, the name I picked for Yusuke's mother (Izumi) means "fountain" or "spring". Seemed fitting, considering the symbolism in the Palace. :'(


	34. The Memories You Choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuke finds some catharsis. Morgana is an excellent emotional support not-cat. And the boys have a ~moment~.

_[[ Yusuke sat, cross-legged, on his futon, surrounded by his crumpled attempts at homework for a still-life assignment at Kosei. Tearing another failed sketch from his dwindling sketchpad, he huffed in frustration._

_(( It's no use. I simply can't create without proper inspiration. And now, when I'm doubting myself, doubting my very motives for creation... ))_

_He tucked an errant strand of hair behind his ear, then fell back onto the mattress, limbs sprawled out like a beached octopus._

_(( An octopus. Perhaps I could do something with that. Or some other sea life? There is always something otherworldly about those creatures. But, then.... ))_

_Thinking about octopi made him think about krakens. Thinking about krakens made him think about Akira's brush with death in the painted world within Madarame's Palace. And thinking about Akira's near-misses..._

_Yusuke turned his head to gaze through his open curtain at Akira's still-unoccupied bed, and frowned._

_(( He seems to refuse to see reason. He's out again, for some mysterious 'part time job' in Shibuya, even after what happened this afternoon. ))_

_(( Those men. They already had their eyes on him. An isolated teenager, on his own, at all hours. Even in the dark.... ))_

_He chewed his lip worriedly. Yusuke knew that, on some level, Akira could handle himself. Though he'd seen a few cracks in his confident facade, his intensity and willpower were something to be reckoned with on their own. If he made a decision, there didn't seem to be much use trying to talk him out of it._

_(( Or perhaps I simply lack the skill to do so. How... maddeningly frustrating. ))_

_He grimaced, plucking at a stray string on the border of his blanket. Stitches popped, unraveling in his hand, and he found the idle destruction strangely satisfying._

_Where was Akira now? He'd assured him that he wasn't "up to any mafia business." That his part time job really was a part time job--at a beef bowl shop, of all things. But when Yusuke had questioned his motives, he'd looked strangely distant._

_[[ "There's just someone I have to meet." ]]_

_Apparently a local politician frequented the shop, and Akira had taken the job in an attempt to get closer to the man. Yusuke recalled part of their earlier conversation in the Shibuya diner._

_[[ "But, why? What will make this worthwhile to you?"_

_Akira shook his head, stirring his fruit tea slowly. "To be honest, I don't know yet. It's like....I sense a connection there, but it is still loose, amorphous. I think...I think he can help us, though. With the work we are doing, we'll be throwing ourselves into the public eye, right? That's always something I've avoided."_

_Grey eyes remained stubbornly trained on the swirling liquid in front of him, brow creased in concentration. Yusuke had to admit that it was oddly mesmeric. A waterspout in miniature, pink and shining, contained like the real-world force of nature never could be._

_Akira continued, finally, "So, having some kind of mentor...someone who can help us avoid the pitfalls of eventual celebrity. I think it's necessary. Morgana agreed."_

_(( Celebrity? He's already planning for such a thing? ))_

_Yusuke blinked, forcing his eyes away from the whirling tea. He took a sip of his own. A little too sweet, but different. Not bad-different. Just different. "I can understand that, I suppose. But I must ask you...why take all of this on yourself? Why does it have to be you?"_

_Akira smiled. Somewhat slowly, somewhat sadly. "It just does. Besides, I'm the 'leader,' right? That makes me responsible for all of you."_

_"Does it?" Yusuke frowned. The group dynamics of the Thieves had been set in place before he'd joined, and he wondered if it was truly his place, as a new member, to question them. Even so.... "But, then....who is responsible for you?"_

_Buying time, perhaps, Akira lifted his tea, thin fingers laced together. When he placed it back on the table, they'd left a pattern in the condensation that had formed on the outside of the glass. With a cheer that felt forced, he replied, finally, "Guess that's me, too! But that's the way it should be, right?"_

_Yusuke shook his head, one palm thudding down on the diner's table heavily. "No, I...I can't accept that. You need to allow us to look out for you."_

_(( Let me look out for you. Please, let me... ))_

_Akira looked away, and Yusuke's stomach churned miserably. Did Akira not trust him? Or not think him capable? He'd thought they were growing closer in some way....but if that bond wasn't enough--_

_"Then, maybe Sakura-san? Or...I know you aren't close, but surely your parents--" ]]_

_Yusuke grimaced at his recollection. After that, although he'd tried to hide it, Akira had completely closed off. Like a magnet twirling to reverse, repelling rather than drawing in, any further attempt at connection had been totally rebuffed._

_(( But why? What could be the reason? Does he truly not want to depend on anyone? Or....was it the mention of his family? ))_

_He frowned. Despite everything, he knew very little about Akira's past, aside from his recounting of the incident that had brought him to Tokyo._

_(( It's possible he's confided in the others. Can I ask them? Or would that be a betrayal of some sort? Or, maybe, this is normal, for families? Do people not speak of them much, and I was simply out of line? ))_

_Yusuke second-guessed himself, rolling over to stare at the attic's dusty ceiling. Growing up, he'd been discouraged from speaking of his mother. There weren't even any photographs...and while this caused him a certain amount of grief, he had no compass, really, to follow to tell him whether that absence was abnormal._

_(( Perhaps speaking idly about families is something that is only done on television. That could be. Then again, Ryuji speaks of his own mother often. ))_

_(( Hmm...he is rather blunt, however, so his outspokenness could be out of the norm.... ))_

_He found his eyes tracking the wood grain of the ceiling, and realized that, unconsciously, he had been looking for the familiar water stains of his childhood bedroom. The yawning fox. The dancing women. He closed his eyes. He'd never see those again. And it was for the best. It was for the best, and yet--_

_Soft padded feet pattered across the floor beside his futon. Morgana drew closer, leaping softly onto the end of the mattress. Yusuke cracked a single eye open to see too-blue eyes staring at him curiously from the end of his bed. They looked away, the not-cat turning to bathe his tail._

_".....Yes? Did you need something?"_

_Morgana stretched, shivering muscles rustling his bedspread slightly. "I was going to ask you the same thing. Usually you're working away back here, but..." He reached out a paw to bat at one of Yusuke's numerous crumpled, failed sketches. It rolled from the mattress with a crinkle, skittering across the sloped attic floor. "Having a hard time today?"_

_The artist pulled himself back up to sit, smiling wryly. "You see through me, Morgana. Yes, that's...not incorrect."_

_Morgana tilted his head, seeming to examine him. "Do you wanna talk about it?"_

_Yusuke sighed. "Not particularly."_

_He wasn't blind, however, to the way his companion's ears drooped at his rebuff._

_(( Perhaps I'm not the only one who wants to be counted on. I...very well, then. ))_

_"Not particularly, but I should."_

_Morgana perked up at that, soft paws plodding across the futon to stand beside him. "What is it, then? Something about what happened today?"_

_Yusuke leaned forward to retrieve his mother's tin box from the end of his bed. "In a way. I...."_

_With a ((click)) he opened it, retrieving the contents and spreading them out on his bedspread. Frayed brushes. A single blue thumbprint. Fragments of graphite... He eyed them all, searching for words._

_"Morgana..."_

_"Yes?" The not-cat placed a paw on his leg and, after a quick, somewhat surprised nod from Yusuke, curled up on his lap, nose pointed with interest at the fragments of Yusuke's past._

_"I know, logically, that I've been an orphan for a very long time now. Since I was four years old. Since my mother....died." Reaching out one thin hand, Yusuke rolled over a certain paintbrush to bring her painted fingerprint into the light. "I knew it, but I'm not sure it ever truly sunk in. I had a guardian, after all, and my memories of my mother were so vague...most lost in the fog that gathers in the edges of our minds, eating away at the past."_

_"So I'm not the only one with that 'fog'....." Morgana murmured, twisting to settle more fully into Yusuke's crossed legs._

_Yusuke laid a hand between Morgana's ears, stroking the bridge of his nose idly with his thumb. "You aren't. That's...speaking for myself, at least, that is a normal part of the human experience. Things will pass out of memory, disregarding how much you may want to cling to them. Like fog through fingers. Places, accomplishments, moments...even people. Or family."_

_"Perhaps that is all that art is. A desire to make a memory, the unique memory that is held only within yourself, into something that cannot ever be lost in that fog."_

_He frowned, remembering the way Madarame had tainted his mother's portrait, cloaking his infant self in what had once seemed like an elegant mist....but now looked, to him, like a choking, poisonous miasma._

_"I had my life, with Madarame. It was dreadful in some ways. But there were also days that I was truly, genuinely happy. I had lost my mother, and my father before that. But did I miss them? How can you miss people you never truly knew?" He curled into himself in thought, and found Morgana's warmth and slow breath against him to be a comfort._

_Quietly, Morgana asked, "Then...do you miss Madarame?"_

_"It feels wrong to." He paused, brow creased, trying to put words to the sensation he held in his heart._

_After a moment, he admitted, "...Yes. In a strange, conflicted way, I suppose I do. But more than that..." Yusuke reached out to the fragments of pencil, trying to piece them back together. They fit, but not perfectly. The moment he drew his hand away, they fell apart again, one piece rolling down a wrinkle in his blanket._

_With solemn finality, he murmured, "More than that...this morning...with Madarame's words closing that door....today was the first time I truly felt like an orphan."_

_The words finally out of his mouth, Yusuke felt something release in his chest, a defensive hardness in his heart that he hadn't known to feel for until it unfurled. He laughed, suddenly, bitterly, and slapped a hand to his mouth to muffle the ugly sound._

_From between cold fingers, lips parted to repeat, "I'm an orphan," and more horrible, sad laughs bubbled from his mouth, unable to be restrained. Tears pricked his eyes, and he tried, instinctively, to reign them in, to hold back this font of emotion, but--_

_A warm nose pressed itself against his face. A soft forehead bumped his cheekbone. "It's okay, Yusuke."_

_(( It's not. ))_

_(( It's **not.** ))_

_Finally, the deluge._

 

_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

 

  
Akira yawned so deeply that it brought tears to his eyes. He hadn't even been out that late. Who'd have thought that putting together beef bowls could be so exhausting?

_Some of those customers got **really** irate when I messed up even slightly. Seriously, who gets pissed over being handed a large katsudon instead of a medium one? It's not like he was charged more..._

It didn't help that he was up so early.

_Boss isn't even here yet...._

Beside him, Yusuke downed a cup of green tea to wash down his daily dose of probably-human-safe vitamins, then returned to fiddling with his phone. From the corner of his eye, Akira could see that he was on the Phan-site.

"There's been a lot more activity on there lately, huh?"

Akira was still deeply conflicted about the presence of the Phan-site. While he was grateful that giving people the opportunity to reach out had allowed the Thieves to find targets in Mementos, he knew how easily online forums could spiral out of control.

"That's true, but....have you seen these comments?"

_Case in point...._

_ << **Anon** : This poll is moronic. Do you people really believe this shit? >>_

_ << **Anon** : If these thieves really exist, they're just a criminal group faking justice to get what they want. >>_

_< < **Phanfan20** : I guess that could be true. I wanted to believe in them, though.... >>_

_ << **Anon** : It's not like the cops would be on their side. Everyone here egging them on is totally complicit, in my opinion. >>_

_< < **Phanfan20** : complicit?! I didn't do anything! I just thought this sounded cool! >>_

_ << **Anon** : Hope you didn't use your real email to sign up here....you really are naive. >>_

_< < **Phanfan20 has left the chatroom** >>_

_< < Username Phanfan20 does not exist >>_

_ << **Anon** : Idiot.... >>_

  
"Yeah, that's not good. Not surprising, but not good." Akira handed Yusuke back his phone, chewing his lip.

_"A criminal group faking justice..."_

_"Everyone here is complicit..."_

_We feel that we are doing the right thing, but do all criminals feel that way? Have I dragged my friends into a self-made criminal organization?_

_Don't answer that._

_I knew that, on some level. I mean, why else call ourselves "thieves" and hide our identities? But comments like that...they make me wonder, what will happen to them if we are caught?_

He looked over to Yusuke, who was finally actually _eating_ , and with a smile on his face at that. He thought about Ann, visiting Shiho to help with her rehab. To Ryuji, finally running again, despite pushback from the apparently-reforming track team.

_They're all being given a chance to rebuild their lives. If we keep going...who's to say that won't all be snatched away from them?_

_Sometimes I wonder if we should stop now. Or if I should pull away, and do this on my own. I'm the one with nothing going for me, anyway. Nothing to go back to. One year...._

"Your coffee's growing cold." Yusuke pushed the mug toward him, brushing one thumb over the back of his hand. Akira felt a tight little twist in his chest, neither happy nor unhappy.

_But if we had stopped after Kamoshida, we never would have met or helped Yusuke. And as much as I wish it was possible, I couldn't have finished that Palace alone._

_And I...even if it is only temporary, I **am** glad to be here._

_I guess I just have to trust that they know the consequences, and that they've decided it is worth it._

Akira took a sip of coffee. Definitely cold. Definitely drinking it anyway. "How do you feel, Yusuke?"

"Hm?" Yusuke turned, his eyes searching his face questioningly. "About...?"

"Well, I mean...you can talk to me about anything. But I meant those comments, specifically. Does it bother you to see people talking like that?"

"Oh, I see."

Yusuke stared back into the rear of the cafe, thinking for a moment. Akira couldn't help but think that he looked surprisingly serene. It was different from the almost stern placidity he'd grown used to. This was...gentle. Soft morning light lay across his face in thin bands, cast between the half-opened blinds on Leblanc's windows. Eyes half-open, he leaned forward on the counter, chin nestled in his laced fingers.

_He looks....dreamy._

Akira reddened a little.

_Did I just call him 'dreamy'? What a cliche._

_...I'm not walking it back, though. He really is._

Slowly, the corners of Yusuke's thin lips curled up, just slightly, as he smiled to himself. He shook his head, soft blue hair falling in a wave against his cheek. "No, it doesn't bother me. They'll understand, or they won't. That's out of my hands, and I won't concern myself with it. I've decided to content myself with what feels correct in the moment. Right here, right now. And the path we are taking...." He shifted his elbow slightly to bump it against Akira's. "It feels right, doesn't it?"

"Is it that simple?" Akira asked, wonderingly.

Yusuke laughed a little, and Akira felt his heart flutter at how genuine it sounded. When did Yusuke become this peaceful? "It probably isn't. But does that have to be a problem?"

"Maybe not...honestly, I'm not sure."

"Hm.." Yusuke shifted in his seat, turning to look at him with disarming openness. "You know, I've been dreading my return to Kosei today."

"Dreading....?"

_!!_

_Akira, you're an idiot! How did you not realize....?!_

Alarmed, Akira sat up straight in his chair. "I'm so sorry! I didn't even think--! You were mentioned directly on the news, and your classmates--" Full of guilt for not thinking about it sooner, especially considering his own experience with rumors at school, he searched Yusuke's face for anxiety or pain.....and was confused to see him remain peaceful.

A little thrown off, he asked, "Will you....be okay?"

A small but confident nod. "I will. I didn't think so, at first. And I suppose today may prove me wrong." A low chuckle rumbled from his throat. "But I don't think I will be."

"I....I'm glad. But if you need anything...." Akira let the sentence trail off, but Yusuke smiled, seeming grateful.

"Of course."

"How do you do it?"

"Do it?" The blue haired boy tilted his head inquisitively.

"It's just..." Akira wasn't sure how to put it into words. "Something's changed, hasn't it?"

Yusuke hummed. "Mm, I suppose. Morgana and I did have a very illuminating conversation last night. But, mostly...." The artist leaned forward slightly, looking directly into his eyes. Akira was reminded once again just how long Yusuke's eyelashes were. He swallowed, willing himself not to blush. "I have decided to make the memories I wish to keep."

Slowly, Akira breathed out, not sure what was happening here, "The memories you wish to keep?"

Yusuke nodded, never taking his eyes from Akira's. A little wonderingly, he said, "You know, Ann has asked me something, repeatedly. A little too repeatedly. And I found, each time, that I did not have an adequate answer for her. More and more lately, I've realized that I desired an answer to that question myself."

_Ann...? What has she been....? This isn't about my past, is it? She's been pushing lately, and I...did she put him up to prying too?_

Nervously, Akira looked away, watching the fragments of morning bicyclists make their way down the side alley through the slatted blinds. "I didn't realize that the two of you were spending so much time together. Yusuke, I'm not sure what Ann asked you, but I--"

Yusuke interrupted, a note of confidence ringing in his voice, drawing himself upright, shoulders squared.

"---and, so, I have decided to tread the path of boldness. So, I ask you--Akira, are you my boyfriend?"

_?!?!?!?!am I **what** now?!?!?!!_

Akira nearly died on the spot in an instant K.O. He flailed out with a hand, overturning his coffee, which splashed across the counter, the floor, and his plaid-uniformed lap. He stood up, frantically shaking coffee from his hands and searching for a hand towel to mop up the mess. Patting at the soaked counter, face burning red, he sputtered, "Excuse me??"

_I.....I......I......do I say yes? I.....what?!_

Yusuke seemed slightly taken aback. He rose himself, helping with the mess, while continuing more quickly. "That is....as I said, I just wanted to know--"

"S....so....so I heard you right?" Akira's heart pounded, compounding the flushed feeling that was swiftly spreading through his body.

"I....yes? I believe so? Was that too bold? I simply wanted to know if you were--"

_He means it?! But he **can't possibly.** Maybe....maybe he's just trying to clarify, since Ann was apparently asking? Also, what the hell, Ann?!_

"I...I mean, do you want me to be?"

"........ ........ ........yes? Have I not made this clear?"

_......has he?!_

Akira's mind whirled with their past interactions. Small touches, quiet talks. Some of those things, he'd also shared with Ryuji, who had made it clear that that their interactions were strictly platonic. But some...

_I know I pushed things sometimes....with like....my head on his shoulder, and the hand-holding....but I guess I thought he was just accepting it with his particular brand of eccentricity? Maybe? But if he...but he shouldn't. Seriously, I'm...not good. Surely he sees--?_

"I....no? Maybe you did? No? I don't think so? But why in the world would you _want_ me to...I mean, you're amazing. And talented, and, like, surprisingly steady? And, uh, objectively gorgeous." Akira flushed more deeply, realizing he was babbling embarrassingly.

"Thank you." Yusuke accepted the compliments surprisingly graciously.

_How?? is he?? not more flustered??_

"So you know. Um. Good, then. That's good, because you are. But I am, frankly, a mess. God, you don't even know the half of what a mess I am." Akira chewed his lip miserably, tugging at a tuft of his fluffy black hair.

_There are so many things that I...I don't want to tell him, or anyone. Dealing with that isn't fair to him, right?_

Yusuke, to his surprise, simply agreed. "Yes, I've come to that conclusion as well. You are quite, ah, tight-lipped about yourself."

"Right. That's. Um. Kind of on purpose. Anyway. So, uh, I wouldn't want you to get into...something...with me....thinking that I'm like, great, or capable, or perfect for you, only to get to know me and realize that well..."

_Right. I'll get that out into the open, and he'll realize--I mean, that makes me....really sad..._

His heart dropped slightly.

_But it's for the best. He really should know that I'm not....good....I mean...._

Yusuke reached out a hand, brushing the hair from Akira's eyes, then running a single soft finger along his cheekbone. Gently, but firmly, he spoke. "You seem to be under the illusion that I do not see your faults. Or that you have....tricked me, somehow?"

_Well. Yeah?_

"....Maybe? Yes? That is the only thing I can think in this moment, honestly." Akira looked away, feeling flustered and slightly ashamed.

Yusuke, however, moved to continue facing him, his dark eyes surveying his own with his own particular brand of intense focus. Akira fretted, twisting his hands in his lap.

"Believe me, I am well aware of your imperfections. You are secretive, and stubborn, and occasionally quite distant. You keep extremely strange hours, share next to nothing of your past, have no regard for your own safety, and once punched me in the face in your sleep."

Akira's shoulders slumped upon hearing the list of his faults, laid bare in such an honest and blunt way.

"Oh god. The face punch. I am still so, so sorry about that Yusuke, I can't even--"

"But even so. There is a connection between us, and I would not see it languish in silence. So, let me ask you once more....Are you my boyfriend?"

Akira could barely breathe.

_Still? Even....realizing all of that? I still feel like....he doesn't know the half of it...but...._

"I...." The words caught, tangled up in a heavy lump in his throat. He wanted to be happy, but this still felt so unreal.

_Is it possible? To still be wanted, despite all of these faults? What...what **does** he want, after all?_

Cautiously, he asked, "What would that mean....to you? To be boyfriends?"

Yusuke appeared contemplative. He took a small sip of his tea, thinking. Akira waited, trying to remember to breathe.

"It would mean that I'd remain at your side. And you at mine. That we'd move through this life together in a way that is somehow greater in that duality than it was as two single lives. And whatever else was born from that would be a blessing. We could....figure out any additional meaning together."

Akira was slightly taken aback.

_That's....really intense. And romantic? That sounds more like my concept of marriage than a brand new relationship...oh wow. I. Um._

_I don't...That might be too much for me._

"In that case, I....I don't think I'm your boyfriend." It pained Akira to say the words, but he had to be honest. Carefully, he watched Yusuke's face, but while a look of disappointment flashed across it, he at least didn't seem...crushed?

_That's....I actually feel less pressured now, somehow. But still--_

"I...I see."

"Wait! I'm not done!" Akira blurted out quickly. Yusuke's eyebrows drew together as he regarded him, waiting.

He took a breath, then continued. "I don't think I am. But....I....I'm open to it? Eventually?"

Yusuke's face brightened, and Akira continued more confidently, although he still felt slightly dizzy from the myriad conflicting emotions spinning through his mind. "Maybe we can say we are....dating. Is that okay?"

Yusuke seemed to consider it seriously. "Dating...as in going on dates? Ah, I can see how such a thing could be considered a prerequisite to a relationship."

"It's....not so much a "prerequisite" as just...something I think would be nice. Really, really nice. Do you....?" Akira reddened again, drawing circles on Leblanc's counter with one finger nervously.

_Oh god, I'm so bad at this. How could he possibly--?_

"Do I want to go on dates with you, Akira? Yes. I'd like that."

Akira stared up at Yusuke, face finally breaking into a small, wondering smile. "Yeah?"

"Yes." Yusuke smiled back, reaching over to take his hand, stilling its anxious movements.

"So, umm...."

"Is it time to set a date? For the date?" Yusuke took out his cellphone, bringing up his calendar app.

_He's really taking this seriously! I--should I too?_

Akira fumbled for his own phone, agreeing, "Uhhh yes, please! That is...if you had a plan in mind? If not, that's totally fine, I just--"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I...er....mentioned it once, but I believe you may have been asleep at the time."

_Asleep?_

Akira tried to remember what Yusuke could have possibly mentioned.

"Asleep...? Ohh, that night. I remember...you were telling me about an art museum. There?"

_I'd be a little out of my depth, but...I have to admit, Yusuke is really cute when he gets excited about things he is interested in, so that could be nice. And it'll be nice to know that **this** art....date...won't end with an invitation for nude modeling._

_...........probably. Right?_

But to his surprise, Yusuke shook his head. "No, actually. The planetarium. Have you been?"

_Oh! I...I'd really like that!_

Akira's face brightened, and Yusuke seemed proud of his reaction, smiling a little bashfully. "No, I haven't. But, um...I'd love to. Go. With you."

"Then it's a date. Sunday?"

"Okay. Sunday. I'll keep it free.  ...Um. Yusuke...."

Akira felt unbearably warm, and flustered, and anxious, and--

"Yes?"

"If today is a day to be bold..."

His stomach fluttered, as he stared at Yusuke's waiting face. His sharp cheekbones, his confident posture. His soft-looking lips, curved into the slightest, tenderest smile....

_Am I really doing this? Yes, I'm doing it._

Yusuke stared at him.

_Say it, just say it!_

In one breath, he blurted out, "Can-I-kiss-you?"

Finally, it was Yusuke's turn to appear flustered. His eyes widened, darting up and down Akira's face, as a hint of redness spread slowly across his usually-pale cheeks.

Nervously, Akira added, "I mean...you don't have to. I have just...to be honest, I've really wanted to. For a while now."

There was no reply, but agonizingly slowly, Yusuke stepped closer to him. He reached a hand out, then twined his fingers with Akira's. His other hand cupped Akira's chin, and the taller boy drew his face up gently, staring intensely into his eyes.

Akira breathed impossibly slowly, his heart pounding so violently that he thought it might burst. He wasn't used to it beating like this from....something good, and the sensation made his head spin, so he leaned into Yusuke for stability. Through the thin fabric of the artist's dress shirt, he felt a heart beat nearly matching his own in rhythm.

_Him too? Then, he...._

Yusuke lowered his face, and Akira closed his eyes. He thought he might die from waiting, one second, two seconds, three--

Soft, and warmer than he'd expected, Yusuke's lips pressed against his, and he leaned into the sensation, smiling despite himself at the sheer happiness he felt. The slightly bitter taste of tea and the miso soup he'd learned to make for him, mixed with something that was entirely Yusuke.

The kiss was quick, almost chaste, but in that brief moment, he confirmed what he'd known for quite some time now.

_This....this is exactly where I want to be._

The two broke apart, both blushing furiously, but smiling. Quietly, Akira mumbled, "Thank you. That was...I liked that."

Nearly whispering, Yusuke squeezed his hand and replied, "I feel the same way."

Both boys startled when they heard the lock to Leblanc's front door click. Akira nearly pulled away, but Yusuke gripped his hand tighter, so he held his ground.

Sure enough, Sakura plodded through the front door, a look of bemusement on his face. He eyed the beet-red boys standing in the middle of his cafe with a single raised eyebrow, then shook his head. Addressing Akira, he scratched the back of his head and grumbled awkwardly, "We....are having that talk. Or something. Tonight."

_Aghhhhh no. Why??_

"I swear that I've already had 'the talk,' Boss...." Akira mumbled to his feet.

"Then I'll have it with Yusuke. _**ANYWAY**_..." Sakura slapped his hand against the counter to punctuate his desire to change the topic of conversation for now. "...I'm glad you two are up. Boys, maybe you're more up on slang than I am. So can you answer a question for me?"

_Slang.....? Seriously, anything to get away from 'The Talk.'_

"Uh, yeah, Boss, sure." Akira dragged one foot around in circles, still not quite meeting Sakura's eyes.

In a tone of genuine, innocent curiosity, Sakura asked, "What's a 'yaoi?'"

**_What in the ever loving fuck?_ **

Akira sputtered in horror. He hadn't had nearly enough coffee for this. "Excuse me?! Please tell me that isn't a word in one of your crossword books."

Too seriously, Yusuke murmured, "To think that a term like that has made its way into the general populace....."

Sakura scratched the back of his head, frowning. "No, I, uh...I heard someone say it--well, _scream_ it, really--a few minutes ago, and I just wondered--"

_Someone.....was screaming about **yaoi**? In **Yongen**? At **seven o'clock in the morning**? H.....how.....why??_

Slightly glad, now, that he hadn't had much caffeine, as this experience could not be good for his heart, Akira blurted, "Where on earth were you that someone was screaming about yaoi?!"

Sakura cringed, which was shocking in its own way. Akira was _not_ used to seeing that sort of look on his guardian's face. "I....so I take it it is something awkward."

"Yes. That's...one way to put it." Akira squeezed Yusuke's hand, praying for some kind of backup to end this conversation.

"It's certainly not something I would assume to be a normal topic of conversation to be had over breakfast. Although, in some circles, it is considered a real artform....."

_Yusuke....thanks for trying, but I feel like that is only going to make him more intrigued. What the hell is my life._

"You know, from your reaction, I really don't think I want to know anymore." Sakura walked behind the counter, reaching for his apron. His back to the pair, he continued, idly, "Maybe I'll just look it up online later."

_Kill me._

"Please don't," Akira squeaked.

Sakura froze, hands in the middle of tying his apron's bow. "Oh no. Now I feel like I have to know. Simultaneously, I now desperately do not want to."

"Boss, I, uh..." Akira snatched up their schoolbags from the floor, then backed toward the door, tugging Yusuke with him. "We really need to get to the station now, and I, uh, I warned you, and am not responsible for whatever internet rabbit hole you wind up in today. Bye!" And, with that, the boys darted through the door, breaking out into the fresh morning air of a new day.

By the time they'd reached the station, they were distant enough to have lost their horror, at least, and were laughing. Hard.

_But **seriously**. What kind of bizarre coincidence?! If I didn't know better, I'd think someone had the cafe bugged!_

_Anyway..._

He waved as Yusuke boarded his separate train, a smile on his lips.

_Guess I'll have to thank Ann, huh?_

Akira pressed a finger to his mouth, tracing where Yusuke's lips had met his.  He'd...never really thought he'd have something like this, and who knows how long it would last, but...

_I'm...really happy.  Honestly, ridiculously, giddily happy.  Absolutely nothing could ruin today.  Nothing._

Warm, and mind continuously replaying their moment in the cafe, Akira boarded the train for Shujin Academy, feeling like he could take on the world and win.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't what I initially intended, but I started writing it and it just kept going? And I honestly am really happy with how it turned out, haha.
> 
> Also, had it throw in a little bit of gremlin Futaba. 
> 
> I think I sort of split the difference between the two possibilities I was fretting to pick between, and it is better this way. Let me know if you liked it! ^^


	35. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a bridge chapter, and I'm not 100% happy with it, but things are moving! 
> 
> Yusuke and Akira have very different experiences with the school rumor mill, and a certain student council president is setting events in motion. Everyone agrees that Akira should not come up with their contingency plans.

_[[ The moment Yusuke walked through the doors of Kosei, the whispers started. This was new--his peers had always seemed to ignore him for the most part, or politely tolerate him. But, he'd expected this._

_(( "The 'Yusuke' mentioned on TV was Kitagawa-kun, right?" ))_

_(( "What gives? Wasn't he always going on and on about his great 'Madarame-sensei'? I always felt like he thought he was better than the rest of us because of it..." ))_

_(( "Just goes to show..." ))_

_Yusuke placed his shoes in their locker, turning his back to the gossiping students. He couldn't pretend that he was comfortable with their sudden attention...._

_(( But I prepared myself for this. And, as I said to Akira... ))_

_He smiled to himself, remembering their kiss._

_(( I can't control their behavior. But I can decide where I want to direct my own thoughts. ))_

_His mind on happier things, he hefted his bookbag, prepared to head to class. Today would be different. He finally had some inspiration, after all. ]]_

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
The moment Akira walked through the doors of Shujin Academy, the whispers started, as they always did.

_"What's the transfer student doing with that creepy grin on his face?"_

_"Maybe he was looking up skirts on his way here."_

_"Ewww, you think he's a train groper?"_

Akira gripped his hands into fists, willing himself to ignore it. It had been this way since he started--every movement, every expression scrutinized. But today was going to be a good day. He wouldn't let it be ruined by the same old shit.

_Still...._

_Is my smile actually creepy?_

Despite himself, his upturned lips wilted slightly. He adjusted his glasses, trying to appear smaller.

_Just once. Just one day, I wish that no one would look at me._

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

  
_[[ Despite his best attempts, Yusuke found himself distracted by the whispers coming from the corner of the room. It didn't help that they frequently drew his attention by using his name._

_(( "That news special was pretty intense. Who knew all of that was going on with Kitagawa-kun?" ))_

_(( "I guess I assumed he was just weird." ))_

_(( "Well, he **is** weird. He seems to be handling it okay, though...." ))_

_Shaking himself slightly, he returned to picking at the bento that Akira had, apparently, snuck into his schoolbag that morning. There wasn't much finesse to the food, and some of it was too heavy for his tastes...but...._

_Yusuke smiled as he plucked an umeboshi onigiri out of the small plastic box._

_(( He found time to make this for me with his own hands. I've never....I haven't had a lunch packed like this since I was in grade school. ))_

_The thought filled him with warmth._

_(( It's uneven, and the filling is poking out the side. Charmingly Akira. ))_

_He fantasized quietly about what Akira must have looked like, preparing it in Leblanc's kitchen in the stillness of early morning. Rice stuck tackily to his hands, as he clumsily forced a pickled plum into the center of the mixture._

_Yusuke couldn't help himself. A bite of onigiri tucked in his cheek, he drew out his sketchpad, beginning a rough outline of Leblanc's kitchen as it was held in his memory. Then, dark, tousled hair. Palms steamed red from hot rice. Akira's imagined, peaceful face._

_In the background, mostly unnoticed by the young artist, the whispers continued._

_(( "Yeah, he seems okay. But with all of the scandals going on with high school students nowadays, shouldn't someone check in on him?" ))_

_(( "Who, like the guidance counselor?" ))_

_(( "Yeah? I mean, wasn't he living with that Madarame guy? I live in the dorms, and I haven't seen him there, so where is he staying?" ))_

_(( "A relative, maybe?" ))_

_(( "Maybe....Hey, Togo-chan, you're in Japanese History with him this afternoon, aren't you?" ))_

_(( "What? Are you talking to me?" ))_

_(( "You should ask him what's up!" ))_

_(( "I....really don't think I have the time for that." ))_

_(( "Pleeeeeeease! I'm dying for the details!" ))_

_(( ".......Maybe. I suppose. But if you're just going to use it for gossip, I'm not going to tell you anything." ))_

_(( "Togo-chaaaan! You're so harsh!" ))_

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Posters had been placed around Shujin, advertising that students should "bring their concerns to Nijima-san of the Shujin Student Council."

At lunch, a cluster of students gathered around a prominently placed poster in the second floor hallway, speculating.

One girl muttered skeptically, "Concerns? Like what?"

Her friend, a girl who was also in class 2-D with Akira, elbowed her, eyeing the boy darkly. "Do you think if we complain to her about the transfer student, they'll finally kick him out?"

The first girl laughed nervously, "Shhhh, he'll hear you! And then who knows what he'll do?" She paused, then, speaking from behind her hand. _"They seriously should, though. I bet he's part of the reason students here are being targeted for those weird jobs. He's giving the whole student body 'that kind' of reputation. Ugh."_

Akira winced, but forced himself to keep walking toward the stairs. He was looking forward to eating lunch with Ann and Ryuji in the courtyard--he still had to thank Ann for her part in helping Yusuke "tread the path of boldness."

_It's fine. I can shake it off. But..._

He frowned, remembering the non-Akira-related part of the girls' conversation.

_"Those weird jobs"....? I wonder if that is related to those men in Shibuya._

Akira's stomach flopped uneasily at the memory. He tried to push the worries out of his mind for now, before they put him off his lunch. But, as he landed on the first floor, his gut continued to churn.

_Ugh. Bathroom, maybe? It's on the way...._

Forcibly ignoring more whispers, he walked as quietly as possible down the hall to the boys' restroom. He blinked, wincing. The dim lights always strained his eyes, and he already had a headache brewing...

In one of Shujin's nondescript bathroom stalls, he frowned at a bit of pencilled graffiti on the wall.

** For a good time call 080-x114-14xx! **

Some rude 'water' droplets were drawn around the number for added effect. It was smudged, and obviously a few months old, but...

_That isn't.....!_

Checking his phone, he confirmed, angrily, that that was, indeed, Ann's actual phone number.

_Fucking assholes!_

His mood thoroughly ruined, he wadded up some toilet paper, erasing Ann's number from the dingy stall wall.

_She never....she never mentioned anyone calling or texting her like that. Did no one ever call her? Or was she just keeping it to herself? Damn it!_

From outside the stall, a pair of footsteps announced the arrival of more students. One brash voice laughed, loudly echoing in the small restroom.

"Hey, didja see those racy photos online of Maka-chan?"

_Photos...?! No. Here, too?!_

**_[[ ............... ]]_ **

Akira's ears burned as he forced himself to exit the stall.

_Just wash your hands and get out. I don't want to hear about this. I don't--_

**_[[ .........just a few pictures..... ]]_ **

_Nngh....._

The scruffy-looking second year that the voice belonged to leaned against the bathroom wall, smirking at his friend. "I hear she's....y'know, ' _open for business,_ ' heh heh."

Akira's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't ignore this. They'd stopped Kamoshida. They'd stopped him. Shouldn't shit like this be done with at Shujin?!

Washing his hands slowly, eyes carefully trained on his own reflection and, as a result, the pair of students gossiping behind him, he heard the other boy reply enthusiastically, "Wow, even a hottie like her is doing work like that?!" The boy paused, seeming to catch himself. He murmured more quietly, _"Wait, you aren't thinking of going, are you?"_

Akira's heart pounded in his ears, making him feel even sicker to his stomach.

**_[[ ............easy work............... ]]_ **

The first boy waved his hands in too-strong denial. "Uhhh, no, of course not! What kind of person would actually use a service like that? Well...." In the mirror, Akira watched the crude second year's eyes wander over to the back of his own head. The boy smirked. "I bet a creep like that transfer student would."

**_[[ .................. ]]_ **

Akira's hands shook. He gripped them tightly into fists, nails pressed into his palms so deeply that it hurt. Before he realized it, he'd whispered.

_"Stop it."_

"Huh? Is he talking to us?" The second boy flinched a bit, glancing over at Akira again.

The first boy doubled down, muttering dismissively, "Whatever, dude. I'm sure you earned your reputation."

Breath rushed through Akira's lips in tight, panted gasps. His shoulders rigid, every muscle in his body tense, he saw red.

**"Just STOP IT."**

He lashed out, punching the bathroom counter with both of his clenched, trembling fists. Behind him, the pair of students flinched, blanching slightly.

"See? He really is violent. I knew it." Together, they backed away toward the exit. "Let's get away from this weirdo, man. There's a bathroom upstairs."

The door to the bathroom creaked open, as Akira ground out the words, "You don't know anything."

He curled over, resting his forehead on his still-clenched fists, shaking. Willing them to just walk away. Just leave, just--

Akira's face burned, tears threatening to overflow his eyes no matter how hard he squeezed them shut.

Footsteps seemed to recede, but as they did, another set drew closer.

_Are they coming back? No, I--just leave, just leave, I don't need this--they don't fucking know **anything** , they--_

"There you are, man! I was lookin' for ya, aren't we--wait, Akira?"

_Ryuji?_

The footsteps drew closer, but Akira couldn't bring himself to raise his head. Instead, he shuffled back toward the sink, removed his glasses, and turned on a trickle of cold water. Trying to make his voice as steady as he could, he replied, "...Hey, Ryuji. Sorry, I just...."

A shadow was cast over his shoulder, and Ryuji laid a rough, steady hand on his shoulder. "Man, you okay? Did those guys say something?" Ryuji's voice was tense and concerned. Akira didn't want to worry him, but he knew he had to say _something_.

He splashed cold water on his face, took a breath, and replied. "It's mostly the same old shit. Rumors. There's some other stuff too. I found Ann's phone number written in the bathroom stall here."

Ryuji's hand tightened on his shoulder as he hissed angrily. "Friggin' bastards."

Rising, Akira nodded. He eyed himself in the mirror quickly before turning--good, his face wasn't red, and he looked mostly fine. He replaced his glasses, shaking his hair into place.

"Yeah. I erased it, but...I thought we ended that shit for her. It pissed me off, and then those guys said....some things, and I got more upset. I punched the sink, and...." He held out his hands to examine them. They were a little pink, and still stung. Catching Ryuji watching from the corner of his eye, he stuffed them in his pockets. "I don't think it helped my reputation."

"Dammit." Ryuji glowered, shuffling his feet. "C'mon. Let's get out of this shitty bathroom at least."

"Yeah. Okay."

Silently, Akira tugged his bag over his shoulder and followed Ryuji outside to the courtyard, no longer in the mood for either lunch or gushing about his wonderful morning.

His lips twisted miserably.

_Why does it have to be like this? I wish everyone here would just **forget that I exist.**_

_Instead, I feel like a **mirror**. Everyone looks at me, and sees exactly that they already thought in their mind._

_It feels like it will **never** matter how hard I try. How good my grades are, how quiet or well behaved I am. What's the point?_

He settled heavily onto a concrete bench beside Ann, who had watched them approach with a worried look on her face. Tugging at a ponytail, she asked, "Something happen? You guys look like somebody stole your lunches."

Akira shrugged with purposeful nonchalance. "Same old shit." Then he glanced at her, wondering whether to bring up what he'd seen. In the end, he decided that she deserved to know. "Hey. I erased it, but did you know that someone had written your phone number down on a wall?"

Ann winced. "One of those was still around?" Her shoulders slumped. "Earlier in the school year, it was everywhere."

Dragging one foot back and forth in the dirt, she continued unhappily, "Because of the rumors from Kamoshida, people got this...idea in their heads...that I was easy. I kept getting gross anonymous texts. It's died down since he was taken out, but...."

_Is it possible to escape people's perception of you? Ever?_

Akira kept his eyes trained on the ground, and the deep line Ann was digging in the dirt with her foot. Back and forth. Back and forth. He frowned. "But some things still linger, huh? Fucking rumors...."

"Dammit." Ryuji settled next to him, bringing out his lunch box. Akira knew he should eat his own, but he had zero appetite at this point. "The rumors about you aren't dyin' down either, man. It doesn't make any sense to me."

Half to himself, Akira mumbled, "Maybe people need a bogeyman. Somebody they can point to and say, 'At least I'm not as shitty as that guy.'" He leaned back, staring up at the school roof. Some girl was up there, dragging bags of dirt around. Not interesting enough to be distracting.

Angrily, Ryuji spat out, "Man, that's bullshit!," startling Akira slightly with his sudden vehemence.

To his right, Ann whisper-shouted, _"Ryuji, not that I disagree, but quiet down, or people are going to look over here."_

"I can't just calm down about it, though," the blonde continued to grumble. He reached into Akira's schoolbag and dug out the bento he'd packed for himself, handing it over.

With a small sigh, Akira forced himself to open it. It had all looked good enough when he packed it this morning, but now all he could see was what a lackluster cook he was. Even the onigiri he'd made had fallen apart, spilling its pickled guts everywhere. He picked at some rice with his bare hands.

Confident that Akira was eating, Ryuji continued bluntly. "Man, if they knew you guys were Phantom Thieves, they wouldn't say shit like that."

 ** _"Ryuji! Not out loud!"_** Ann huffed irritably. 

Unfortunately, too late.

To the trio's alarm, from around a corner, Makoto Nijima, the ever-nosy student council president of Shujin Academy, emerged. In one hand, she held out her cellphone, a look of smug triumph on her face.

_No. Oh no._

"Oh, shit." Ryuji's face whitened visibly.

"Goddamn it, Ryuji...." Ann tensed beside Akira, setting her soda on the bench beside herself to give the situation her full attention.

Nijima raised an eyebrow, regarding the trio. In a voice that was somehow both professional and mildly amused, she insisted, "Oh, please, don't stop on my account. Feel free to continue to confirm that you are that....rumored group."

Angrily, Ryuji huffed, "We didn't confirm **shit**. I don't know what you're talking about."

Akira anxiously laid a hand on Ryuji's arm, shaking him. "Stop. Just...."

Nijima drew closer, rotating her phone in the air. On it was....was that a voice recording app? "Didn't confirm.... _shit_ , did you say? I beg to differ." Her thumb hit a button on the screen, and from the speaker of her phone, Ryuji's tinny voice repeated itself.

_< < Man, if they knew you guys were Phantom Thieves, they wouldn't say shit like that. >>_

_< < Ryuji! Not out loud! >>_

"Goddamn it..."

She turned off the recording, placed the phone safely in her pocket, then crossed her arms behind her back, surveying them sternly.

Slowly, Akira spoke up. "You know as well as I do that a recording like that isn't proof of anything."

She nodded, appearing mildly impressed. With a shrug, the brunette agreed. "You're not wrong. But you know as well as I do that proof doesn't have to be 'proof'. Proof of a crime committed isn't, for example, necessary for expulsion."

"This shit again?" Ryuji hissed.

Ann narrowed her eyes angrily. "Of course someone like you would resort to essentially blackmail. Do you realize you're making the same shitty threats that Kamoshida did?"

Nijima flinched visibly, her confident demeanor showing its first crack. But Ann wasn't finished. "But then, you covered up for him, didn't you? Or at the very least, you turned a blind eye. To what was happening to Shiho. To the volleyball team." She pressed her lips together into a hard, angry line, leaving _'To me...'_ unspoken, but understood.

Lashing back, red eyes flashing, Nijima bitterly retorted, "Right. Like you did anything yourself. You were the closest one to her, isn't that right?"

Ann stiffened, and Akira threw an arm around her, his temper rising.

_How dare she?! She has no clue, no place to say shit like this!_

He opened his mouth to berate her, regardless of the consequences, but Ann beat him to it.

"It's all just bravado, isn't it? This act, to cover up for how useless you really are. Gross." Ann looked away. "But whatever. Clearly you want something from us, if you're showing us that recording instead of just going to the administration with it."

"Wow, Ann, you're a friggin genuis!" Ryuji exclaimed gratefully. Akira was inclined to agree.

_Wow. She picked that girl apart and laid her bare in an instant. I can tell that Nijima feels it, too._

The student council president's shoulders had slumped, but she still eyed them with a look of angry determination. Bitterly, she mumbled to herself, _"Useless? That's...."_

She shook her head.

Seeming to regain her professionalism, she stared Akira in the eyes. Her red eyes were a little unnerving, but this seemed to be a battle of wills, and he refused to look away.

"I will keep this recording to myself, if you as a group can verify your justice."

Akira tilted his head questioningly, adjusting his glasses. "Verify it?"

Nijima nodded sharply. "Students are being lured into possibly-illegal part time jobs by a suspicious group operating out of Shibuya. Honestly, I suspect mafia involvement."

"Mafia?! You want us to take down a mob boss?!" Ryuji blurted, alarmed.

"This is something larger than me. You specialize in situations like this, isn't that so?"

Red eyes flashed.

"And if you don't, then what's the point of you? Are you only doing this for your own selfish reasons?"  Nijima's voice rang with surprising power.

_Is she actually being honest about her interest in this?_

Ryuji shook his head vigorously. "That's not it!"

"Then verify it! I'll give you a week to make progress." She turned away, apparently dismissing them.

_A week?!  That's no time at all!_

Before she could leave, Akira stood, waving one hand to still her. "Nijima-senpai."

She regarded him with a hint of interest. "Yes? Don't think you're getting out of this. Despite your reputation, you don't intimidate me."

Frustrated beyond belief, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not it. But we'll need to know....do you have a name?"

"A name?" She frowned. "I would consider finding that out part of your job."

_So she has no idea. Fantastic._

Ryuji rose to his feet, posturing angrily. "You're blackmailing us, demanding all of this, and you don't even have a name?!"

Akira could have sworn he saw a hint of uncertainty cross the girl's face, but it was immediately swallowed up by stern disinterest. She crossed her arms, turning away once again. "Correct. Good luck."

The three thieves sat, stunned, watching their student council president march back into the school.

Ryuji sat back down beside Akira with a heavy thud. "Shit."

_'Shit' is right._

Ann fretted irritably. "Damn it, Ryuji! Why did you have to shout like that?"

Defensively, he grumbled, "Hey, you were on that recording too, y'know."

Akira lowered his face into his hands with a moan of defeat. "Guys....can we just....not, right now? We'll sort out blame later, if we have to. Right now...let's focus on the crisis, okay?"

Somewhat abashed, both Ann and Ryuji agreed. "Yeah. Okay, I'm sorry. So, should we....what should we do?" Akira turned to face them. Despite the grumbling, they both seemed pale. Ryuji in particular looked guilty, and defenseless.

Plucking at his hair, Akira murmured, "I don't want to discuss this here, for reasons that should be obvious. Can the two of you make it to Leblanc tonight? We need to let Yusuke know what happened."

"Yeah, man. I've got no plans."

Ann nodded, grabbing her bag. "I'll be there. Hey, speaking of Yusuke, weren't you going to tell us something? You were all peppy this morning. It was cute." She laughed lightly, bumping her shoulder into his, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I....um, I'll save it for later, okay? See you tonight." With a small wave to his friends, Akira headed back into the building, mind spinning.

_What the hell are we going to do? They're trying to play it off, but I know they're scared. I'm scared too, but...there has to be something._

_We'll do what we have to._

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
The Thieves gathered at Leblanc that evening, an air of frustration permeating the gathering. Ann and Ryuji had emptied their pockets to bring the ingredients to make a hot pot in an effort to lighten the mood.

At first, Akira had been irritated to see the bundle of groceries in their arms, especially considering that, of their group, _he_ was the only one with any even meager cooking skills.

But as he tended the food in a pot he'd borrowed from Sakura, he had to admit that everyone seemed more relaxed as they clustered around it, settling into a pile of cushions and plush blankets.

Ryuji smiled, handing him bowls full of messily chopped ingredients, seeming just happy to be helpful. Yusuke waxed poetic about the perfect accompaniments to hot pot, hinting heavily at a desire for porridge to finish the meal. Morgana basked in a rectangle of late afternoon sunlight from a cozy spot on his bed.

Ann stood in a corner, poking his houseplant and adding water to its parched soil. Brightly, she cried out, "It has leaves now! Akira, did you notice?"

He glanced over, and to his surprise, she was correct. Somehow, their haphazard tending had coaxed a few new, bright green leaves to unfurl. It still looked pretty ragged, and droopy, but....

"Huh. I guess it's alive after all."

"We've been trying to tell you!" She smiled, rejoining the rest of them in their cozy circle.

Akira sighed, stirring more vegetables into the pot. As tense as he had spent the remainder of the schoolday...he'd spent it worrying over _them_. It did feel good to just sit for a moment, remembering why they'd all bonded in the first place.

_Still...._

Speaking to the pot as it shimmered with heat, Akira murmured, "So....Nijima-senpai."

"Yeah...." Ann stretched out, catlike, on a tasseled velvet floor pillow. "We're really in a bind."

Sternly, Yusuke agreed, turning to Ryuji. The artist glowered. He'd been (understandably) irritable toward the blonde since hearing the news. "Truly. Ryuji, I feel that you did not understand how high the stakes are for us. To allow yourself to be recorded--!"

From his perch on the bed, Morgana piped up, "I agree! You were totally irresponsible!"

Akira expected Ryuji to act defensive, or try to brush it off. But, instead, he mumbled unhappy, "I....I know, guys. M'sorry."

_We won't get anywhere if we turn this fight on each other...._

"Hey, it's...I won't say it's okay, but we'll find a way to get through this. We have so far, right?"

Ann nodded. "It's true. We've gone through some crazy things together, but so far, somehow, it's always turned out."

Seriously, Akira set his spoon down and turned to face the others, his hands set on his thighs. He cleared his throat awkwardly. He'd thought hard about what he wanted to say, but that didn't make it any easier.

"Guys...no matter what, I'll get you all out of this. So, that's why...." All eyes were on him, and he forced himself not to look away. Yusuke, in particular, looked concerned.

_Here comes the hard part..._

Akira tried to look as confident as he could. Voice steady, he insisted, "If it comes to it. If we are caught, or Nijima exposes us....I'll say that I threatened you all into joining me."

The room exploded into vehement denials. "What, are you an idiot?!" "No way! Akira, we'd never!" "Absolutely not!"

_Why are they making this so hard?  Am I really the only one who sees this?_

Staring at his hands now, he continued seriously, "Guys, no, listen to me. It's what makes sense. There's no reason for us all to go down if we don't have to. You all have lives to live. And I...I mean, I'm the 'delinquent,' right? It..." He swallowed heavily. "It wouldn't be so far from the character they've already built for me, right?"

Ryuji was the first to speak up, surprisingly angrily. "Akira, there's no way in hell we are doing that. If we go down, we're going together."

_Why.....?_

Akira felt movement, and looked up to see that the other four thieves had gathered around him, staring intensely. Ann shook her head, blonde hair flying around her face. "No. We won't let that happen. No one here is getting abandoned, or sacrificed, or--just no."

Morgana laid a paw on his knee. "We'll come up with a way better plan than that. That's why we're all here, right? It's too soon to think about throwing in the towel."

"I mean....it wasn't my _first_ plan. I know we're going to do our best to get out of this. I just thought....worst case scenario....we should have a plan....?" He trailed off, silenced by their unhappy faces.

Yusuke seemed to just eye him, silently. He looked....disappointed. Akira's stomach twisted. He hadn't meant--he hadn't thought they'd be _happy_ , of course, but...

"Yusuke?"

Kneading his brow, Yusuke finally spoke, lowly, and with a hint of barely-suppressed frustration. "Akira...do you not trust us?"

_What?_

"No, that's--of course I trust you!"

"Then how could you possibly think we'd allow you to take the blame for all of our actions? Actions that we all chose together?"

Ryuji and Ann nodded in agreement. "He's right." "Yeah, honestly, I'm a little offended that you thought we'd accept a plan like that."

_Oh._

He hadn't thought about how they might feel. Not like that, anyway. He'd been so focused on the idea of keeping them safe, that....

Akira twisted his hands nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't think. I just...it's my job to look out for you guys. But I do know that you care, and that you want to look out for me too, right?"

Yusuke leaned over to stir the dangerously-bubbling pot, seeming not entirely happy, but at least slightly relieved. "That's correct. Now, let us come up with a plan that does _not_ involve possible idiotic self-sacrifice. It will be difficult for you to make it to our date from within the confines of a jail cell, after all."

_That's true. I....need to remind myself. At least for now, I'm **not** "the one with nothing going for him," huh?_

"Agreed!" Ann peered into the pot, inhaling deeply. "This has got to be done by now, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. So..." Akira handed out bowls and utensils, then smiled, feeling surprisingly relieved. "Let's eat, and talk this over together. Clearly I'm not meant to plan stuff on my own." He laughed ruefully, ladling soup into his own bowl.

As he handed the ladle over, Ryuji exclaimed, "You've got _that_ right. Worst plan ever."

"Idiotic!" Ann accepted the ladle....then froze, her face turning slowly to Yusuke. "Wait. Wait wait wait. BACK UP. _**DATE?!**_ Wait, was _THAT_ what you were going to tell us about at lunch?!"

Face reddening, but happily for once, Akira scooted beside Yusuke, looking up at him for confirmation. Yusuke nodded, smiling. They laced their fingers together, and Ann audibly squealed. "Oh my god, I called it! I so called it!"

"Called what??" both Ryuji and Morgana asked simultaneously, truly oblivious.

Ann rolled her eyes. "They're _dating_. Isn't it obvious?"

Ryuji's eyes widened, and Akira bit his lip a little nervously.

_Wait, is he going to be weird about this? He wouldn't, right?_

"You guys are dating?" Ryuji asked in wonderment, staring at their joined hands. "What? When did _this_ happen?"

Yusuke spoke up, leaning into Akira's side. "Well, in truth, it _hasn't_ happened yet. I am taking him on a date this Sunday."

Still red, Akira added, "Jeez, guys...is this what it feels like to ask your parents permission to date?"

Flatly, Morgana spoke up, "I am not your parent."

"You _are_ always reminding me about my bedtime...." Akira poked Morgana's nose, and the not-cat bit his finger.

_Oww!  I earned it though._

Finally, Ryuji laughed. "No, man. You don't need, like, permission or anything. I just felt like a bit of an idiot for not realizing....or like I was the last to know. I feel better knowing that it is a brand new thing."

Akira smiled, squeezing Yusuke's hand. This was good. This felt good. Normal, happy teenager shit, sharing happy life stuff with his friends. "Yeah, he just asked me out this morning, actually. We're going to the planetarium!"

"Eeeeek, that is so **cute**!" Ann flailed, then tackled Akira and Yusuke for a hug. The three tumbled together into a pile of limbs, Yusuke's long legs narrowly avoiding a tragic collision with the hot pot and portable stove. Poking Akira on the nose with one strawberry-pink fingernail, she added, "Seriously though? Just since this morning? I've been thinking 'will they or won't they' for _ages_ now."

Buried beneath the two of them, Yusuke murmured inquiringly, "Was our mutual attraction that obvious?"

"Um, yes? Like, sickeningly sweetly obvious."

Kneeling beside their hug-pile, Ryuji scratched his head. "It wasn't that obvious to me...."

"Well that's because you have no eye for romance! Now get in here! You too, Morgana!" Ann reached out and tugged at Ryuji's arm, knocking him off-balance and into the pile with a "Wh--whoa--oopf!!"

Akira smiled at his friend's astonished face, inches from his own. "Well, hey there."

_I feel like even a month ago, being this close to Ryuji's face would have made me a flustered mess.  But now...I'm just happy._

_It feels good to be able to fall back into our friendship like this._

"Hey there yourself. I--OWWW MORGANA, YOU HAVE CLAWS, AND THAT WAS MY ASS!" Ryuji flailed, sending Morgana flying, and elbowing Ann in the ribs.

"RYUJI! THAT HURT! **OW! MY TIT!** "

**"L.....LADY ANN?!?"**

**"KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE, DAMN IT! I MAY NOT HAVE ANY CUSTOMERS RIGHT NOW, BUT THE CAFE IS STILL TECHNICALLY OPEN!"**

**"AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO THAT CAT?  IT SOUNDS TRAUMATIZED."**

As the hug pile morphed into an awkward, now-whispering shuffling of limbs and elbows and knees, Akira laughed into Yusuke's chest. His future-date ran a hand through his hair, and he leaned into it, catlike.

_Of course. This right here. I really was being an idiot, wasn't I?_

_We'll figure something out. We're all ridiculous. But we're ridiculous together, myself included.  I...need to try harder to remember this, even if it doesn't come naturally to me._

_I'll try._

Akira reached a hand through the fray, determined to eat the soup he'd made, despite the battle. "Guys, your hot pot's gonna get....not hot."

"Oh, shit!"

"What a waste! Akira, let me up?" Regretfully, he rolled off of Yusuke, sliding him his bowl.

Still laughing lightly at his friends, Akira gathered himself, then asked, "So, moment-ruiner here, but has anyone had any lightbulb moments?"

Yusuke shook his head. "Speaking for myself, I'm afraid not. I don't know this Nijima girl, or how far she's willing to go with this."

"Mmm, Makoto Nijima...." Ann spoke slowly around a mouthful of vegetables. "She's...I don't know. She talks like she's all big and in charge, but honestly she seems like a pushover being dragged around by the school administration."

Musing, Akira wondered, "You think the school put her up to looking into the Thieves?"

"Mmhm. I do."

"What about this mafia business?"

Ann shook her head. "There's no way. If the administration wants us caught, why would they request a change of heart?"

"So maybe she's acting on requests from the student body?"

"You mean those posters? 'Talk to Nijima-san of the Student Council' and all that?" Ryuji asked, his recounting of the poster's words spoken in a half-mocking voice.

"It's possible. From what I've heard around school, it's within the realm of possibility that the student body is being exploited."

Yusuke hummed in agreement. "I've heard rumors of such around Kosei as well. And then there's those men who accosted us in Shibuya...."

 **"WHAT?"** Ryuji blurted, not having heard the story. Unhappily, Akira and Yusuke recounted it for them, and they all stared at each other for a moment.

"Man....that's friggin' sketchy...." Ryuji scratched the back of his head, then stretched one leg out to rest his foot between the bunny pillow's oversized purple eyes. "Hey, guys...."

Morgana looked up. "Yeah?"

Seeming conflicted, Ryuji mumbled, "If all this shit's going on, is Nijima-senpai really wrong? About the target I mean, not the blackmail stuff--that's still super shitty."

"Ryuji....do you want to actually accept her request? To go after the literal mafia? Isn't that a little....I dunno, out of our league?" Ann fiddled with the end of a pigtail, thinking.

"Well, I think this could be a great target for the Phantom Thieves! Taking down the head of an _actual_ criminal organization that even the police can't handle? Imagine what that could do for our reputation!" Morgana puffed his chest up slightly, clearly waiting for them all to agree.

Slowly, Yusuke nodded. "You're not wrong."

"And that would help you with your goal, right? Mementos?" Akira handed Morgana a plate of meat he'd set aside before cooking. "We did make a promise, after all. And Ryuji's right. I don't....necessarily like this..."

_It hits a little too close to home...._

"But knowing now how so many people may be suffering. Now that our attention has been drawn to it, I don't think I can just look away."

"Mmmmm..." Ann fiddled with her chopsticks, picking at the dregs of her food. "How are we supposed to do this without a name, though? It's not like we can just ask around town."

Ryuji scoffed. "Yeah, like can you imagine? 'Excuse me, sir, but do you happen to know the identity of the local mob boss?'" His innocent act was hilarious, but absolutely not convincing.

Akira shook his head ruefully. "That definitely won't work."

"We can't go to the police. But...perhaps....someone in the media? Surely _someone_ has been investigating this." Akira's heart sunk slightly at Yusuke's suggestion, even as he realized that it was likely their best bet.

Recalling their encounter with the too-friendly reporter outside of Madarame's shack, and the booze-infused business card he still had stuffed in a drawer of his desk, Akira murmured, "I may have a contact, in that case...I'll send her a message later tonight, if that's all right with you. Until then, let's table this, okay?"

Ryuji stretched, smiling contentedly. "Sounds good to me, man. Let's just hang out for a while. We never have time like this to just spend together, as, like...a group of friends. I feel like we never properly welcomed Yusuke to the group, either."

"Yeah. I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, I'm planning to finish up their hot pot night, and to reintroduce Ohya/introduce Shinjuku. You know. With less shitty gay panic. Ughh I love this game, but that was the worst. -__-;
> 
> Also, Akira's glasses are fake, but I'm beginning to suspect that he lowkey needs real ones, but doesn't realize it. Lmao


	36. Half-Truth & Missed Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait between chapters. I went to a con, and, well, cosplaying Minato = fun. Catching some mysterious con crud that I'm still fighting over a week later? Less fun. :'(
> 
> But here we are, with the end to hot pot night, Akira letting out a little backstory (with an unfortunately iffy rationale) and a P4 cameo in Shinjuku!

_[[ Curled up on Akira's bed, Ann feigned sleep, listening to the slow trickle of conversation coming from the circle of boys laying on the rug in the middle of the attic floor._

_Above her head, Morgana snuffled in his sleep, burrowed into her hair. Partly, she rationalized her silence by insisting to herself that the not-cat was simply too cute to be disturbed._

_(( Better not let him know that, though. His inflated ego might float him to the moon, haha. ))_

_She'd been genuinely tired (despite it only being early evening), and had nodded off for a second, but upon shaking herself awake, Ann couldn't help but wonder..._

_(( Will Akira open up to the other guys more than me? Maybe he's just shy about talking about personal stuff with girls. ))_

_So far, she'd been disappointed. Akira dodged most opportunities to open up like he'd dodge a shadow attack to the face. She sighed internally as they turned to the topic of school -- she already knew what was going on at Shujin, after all._

_Yusuke's deep voice murmured, "Today was certainly strange at Kosei. I've never had my peers take such a level of interest in me."_

_"Was it okay? I was worried about you today." Akira sounded tender and nurturing, and Ann had to resist a smile. She was glad that those two were finally figuring things out._

_"Mmm, nothing bad. A girl in my Japanese History class did inquire about my living arrangements, which was somewhat concerning."_

_Ryuji spoke up, "Yeah, does your school even know where you're livin'? What'd you tell her?"_

_"Kosei has been made aware. I believe Boss made a phone call shortly after I settled in here. As for Togo-chan...I simply told her that I had found a roommate. She seemed satisfied with that answer--Kosei being a fairly competitive school, it isn't unusual for students to live on their own."_

_"I'm glad that the rumors weren't anything bad, then. Your school...it sounds nice. Does everyone look out for each other there?" Akira sounded relieved, and genuinely curious._

_"I believe the school culture could better be described as 'everyone sticks to their own business.' Still, it does have its merits."_

_"I dunno, man. Sounds nice to me." A rustle, perhaps from Ryuji rolling over. A tinny clatter as the side of his sneaker brushed the edge of the portable stove, which had long since gone stone cold. "The rumors are out of control at Shujin. Especially about this guy. Hey, Akira..."_

_Ann prepared herself for another rebuff, wondering how their leader would parry Ryuji's newest inquiry._

_"Hm?"_

_"What was your old school like? I've never heard you talk about any friends from back home, but I just can't believe that a good guy like you wouldn't have been more popular, at least before this false accusation shit."_

_"My old school? Well...."_

_Ann held her breath, trying harder to listen._

_(( Is he actually going to answer?! ))_

_Akira paused, and Ann braced herself for disappointment. But, then--_

_Quietly, but not unhappily, Akira murmured, "My old school wasn't bad. I didn't really connect with many people. I guess you could say that I was....kind of sheltered? Honestly I was a bit of a teacher's pet."_

_(( Really? That's surprising. ))_

_"What?! **You,** a teacher's pet? No friggin way. I don't believe that for a second."_

_He laughed lightly. "It helps that the teachers at my old school were, for the most part, genuinely decent people. And before that..." Akira hummed, seeming to consider what else to say. "I was on the gymnastics team early on in middle school. That was fun. I wasn't allo--um, I didn't make it to any off-campus competitions or anything, but my coach was great."_

_(( Was he going to say that he "wasn't allowed" to compete off-campus? That's weird. Like, there's sheltered, and then there's **sheltered**.))_

_"Our team wasn't anything special, but sometimes they'd let us join the cheerleaders for the sports rallies!"_

_Ryuji chuckled. "Yeah, gymnastics, I can see that, what with all of your crazy stunts in the Metaverse. Hey, Yusuke, how's it feel to be datin' a former cheerleader?"_

_"Mm, I can only imagine the dynamic poses he may have perfected in his time there! Cheerleaders can at times create a stunning sort of group geometry. Perhaps--"_

_Ryuji cut him off, and Ann could just imagine his light scowl. "That's....not what I meant, dude. Anyway, Akira, you were just on the team through middle school? Why'd you quit? I know that lotsa high schools have gymnastics teams, too. And if not that, it isn't like guys can't be on the cheer squad."_

_"That's...." Akira's voice sounded tighter. "Some...family obligations came up, and I didn't have the time for outside stuff anymore."_

_Yusuke murmured with gentle interest, "Obligations? May I ask....?"_

_"Mm....just....family stuff. It's kind of personal, so...."_

_(( And there we go again. ))_

_Morgana's furry rear paw stretched out and brushed against Ann's nose, and she had to restrain a sneeze. Focused on that, she nearly missed Ryuji pressing the subject. "C'mon, man. Like, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything, but you know you can, like, share stuff with us, right? We're always unloading our shit on you, so...."_

_Yusuke agreed, fondly. "Indeed. This does not need to be a one-way street."_

_In the silence that ensued, every creak of the attic, every rustle of clothing, even the sound of her own breath felt magnified. Outside, a tree branch brushed against the window, and an irritated-sounding bird broke the silence with its own sharp chatter, paving the way for Akira to speak, himself._

_"That's..."_

_(( He sounds miserable, but like he's trying to hide it. They're getting somewhere, but I almost feel bad about it. I **definitely** feel bad about eavesdropping, anyway.... ))_

_"When I was fourteen, there was...." Akira's voice cracked. "I accidentally started a fire in my bedroom."_

_"A fire?" Yusuke quietly urged him to continue._

_"It was my fault, and....my dad got caught up in it. He lived, and seems mostly fine now, but he had to spend some time in the hospital." His voice grew tighter, and Ann's heart squeezed from empathy._

_(( Akira....oh no..... ))_

_Small gasps. Mournfully, Yusuke murmured, "I'm sorry, Akira. I didn't know. Should we not have pressed?"_

_A shuddering sigh. A creaking floor board, and the sound of pants dragging across wood. Ryuji or Yusuke had drawn nearer to Akira for comfort._

_"No, that's...I understand why you guys want to know. It can't be comfortable being led by someone who you don't know much about."_

_(( That's not why I wanted to know, though! Like, yeah, a small part of me has felt that it was unfair that all of our secrets were out in the open, while he kept his buttoned down. Hidden. But mostly.... ))_

_(( It's because of him that I realized that I didn't have to struggle alone. Shouldn't we be able to do the same? ))_

_Ryuji seemed to be on the same page. "Nah, man. I'll trust you as our leader no matter what. We just wanna be here for you."_

_"No matter what, huh?" Akira sounded like he wanted to believe it, but couldn't quite bring himself to._

_"A--anyway..." He shook the pensive tone from his voice, now shying away from more details. "...because of that, things were rough for a bit, so I had to do a lot to help take care of the family. There wasn't room for much else."_

_Ryuji sounded stunned, but caring. "Damn, man, I....I'm sorry. I didn't know."_

_"Indeed. Akira, thank you for telling us. I can't imagine..." A small series of thuds, as Yusuke shuffled closer to Akira. A sniffle. Was one of them crying? Ann couldn't tell who._

_(( I can't pretend to be asleep anymore. This isn't okay. ))_

_Ann stretched, opening her eyes, and saw that the three boys were clustered together on the rug. Akira looked tense, eyes averted from his friends to stare into the darkened half of the attic where Yusuke lived. Ryuji's eyes glistened, and Yusuke seemed even paler than usual._

_The trio on the floor startled from her movement, though Akira didn't raise his eyes. He asked, quietly, "Hey, Ann. You're awake. Did you hear that, then....?"_

_"Yeah....I mean, some of it," she half-admitted, awkwardly. Tugging her hair out from beneath a still-snoring Morgana, she scooted to the floor to join them, before asking, "You've had a lot happen to you, haven't you?"_

_Akira shook his head, and something painful showed in the narrowing of his eyes. Lowly, he mumbled, "Can you say something 'happened to you' if you were the one who caused it?"_

_To his left, Yusuke peered over his shoulder, looking concerned. "You're speaking of this fire? But surely you didn't intend--that is--"_

_Akira stiffened, hands digging into the plush rug beneath him. "Does intent really matter when the results mean that you lit a family member on fire?!" he snapped, causing the other thieves to flinch._

_Yusuke didn't withdraw, but he chewed a lip, seeming contrite._

_Then, Akira's shoulders collapsed in apparent regret. "I...I'm sorry. You're not....I know you're not...." He leaned back, and ran a thumb in a small circle on Yusuke's knee, then gave Ann and Ryuji a small, apologetic nod. He exhaled slowly._

_"Of course I didn't intend it. But it's still my fault. And that's why..." He shook his head, voice stuttering slightly. "Guys, I really don't want to talk about this anymore, can we drop it? **Please**?"_

_"But...but dude--"_

_A phone buzzed, cutting Ryuji off, and Akira wrestled to retrieve his cell from his pocket. He frowned, concentrating on it like it was a particularly slimy lifeline. "Anyway. That reporter contacted me, and it looks like she might have some information. I need to head out to Shinjuku. Will you all be able to make it home okay?"_

_"W....what?" Yusuke sounded slightly shell-shocked, and Ann couldn't blame him. How could Akira drop a bomb like that, and then instantly run away from them and into Thieves work?_

_(( That's right. That **is** what he's doing. Running away.... ))_

_"Akira..." Ann shuffled over to face him, curiosity and concern clear on her face. "Does this have to be tonight? To be **now**?"_

_Silently, he handed over his cellphone as proof._

_**Akira** : Hey. We met a few weeks back outside of Ichiryusai Madarame's shack in Shibuya. I have a few questions for you about the way Shibuya is being run. Students at my school are being coerced into unsafe "part time jobs". Would you know anything about that?_

_**Scary Drunk Reporter** : Ooooh, I remember you. Mmm, I might have the info you're looking for, but this is going to have to be a give and take relationship._

_**Akira** : I can do that._

_**Scary Drunk Reporter:** Well, great. I'm busy the rest of this week, but if you can make it to the Crossroads Bar in Shinjuku tonight, I'll answer what questions I can._

_**Akira** : Tonight? And we can't just do this over text?_

_**Scary Drunk Reporter** : I don't want to go on the record with this. Do you? And yeah, it is either tonight or next week. Up to you._

_**Akira** : I'll make it work. What time?_

_**Scary Drunk Reporter** : I'll text you when I get there._

_**Scary Drunk Reporter:** I'm here, and will be for a couple of hours._

_Yusuke and Ryuji craned over her shoulder at Akira's phone._

_Yusuke frowned. "Scary....drunk reporter. And you met her outside of Madarame's home? I...." He massaged his temple, grimacing slightly. "I believe I'm familiar with this woman. And while I wouldn't say she is the **worst** of the paparazzi I've encountered....Akira, are you certain that this person is trustworthy?"_

_Akira flopped back onto the bunny pillow, arms limply spread eagled to either side. He blew a strand of hair from the tip of his nose, staring at the ceiling. "Honestly, no. But we have a deadline, and we need a name. I can handle it."_

_Ryuji threw a pillow at him, and Akira squawked in surprise. "Maybe you can, but not alone!"_

_Eyes peeking around the enormous stuffed cactus that he'd suddenly found himself clutching, Akira protested, "I'm sure you all need to get home, don't you?"_

_Regretfully, Ann admitted that she did. "I don't want to, but yeah. There are some things I need to do for my parents before I head to bed for the night. Mostly paying bills, but..."_

_Akira nudged her leg with his foot, not an ounce of judgement in his soft grey eyes. "Like I said, it is completely okay."_

_(( It doesn't feel okay, though... ))_

_"It really is not."_

_Yusuke drew himself up to his full height, standing imposingly over their leader. Ann could swear that she actually saw Akira gulp in alarm as the artist turned his most severe stare on him. "Yusuke?"_

_"If you think I'll be watching you traipse off into the dead of night, alone, you are sadly mistaken. I, at least, will be accompanying you." Yusuke stood completely still, eyes narrowed. "You did agree, after all, that we'd have no more of this sacrificial foolishness."_

_"It's not like that! She's just a reporter, I...." Akira wilted slightly under Yusuke's continued, unimpressed stare. "But, uh....I'm suddenly feeling like if I say no, my life may be in far more danger than whatever I might find in Shinjuku."_

_"Yes." Yusuke's eyes glittered ominously, and even Ann shivered a bit._

_"I.....fine. Yes, okay. Yes." Akira covered his face with one arm, seeming embarrassed. Or maybe just hiding from Yusuke's intensity._

_"Thank goodness." Ann smiled in relief. "I honestly felt like a monster saying no."_

_Ryuji chimed in, "Hey, I've got nothin' going on tonight either, so I can come with."_

_"You're in your school uniform, though...."_

_Ryuji's eyes widened. "What? Why would that be a problem?"_

_Yusuke eyed him critically. "We **are** going to some sort of drinking establishment. You'd stand out."_

_"Shit...."_

_Akira laughed, then, evidently accepting his fate, and his friends' insistence. Drawing himself up to rest on his elbows, he admitted, "I...don't want to be, but I'm relieved you guys are coming. Ryuji, I probably have something you can borrow so you won't stick out like a sore thumb. If we're doing this, though, we need to get started immediately."_

_"All right!" Ryuji pumped a fist triumphantly. "I knew you'd see the light! Operation: Bar Infiltration is a-go!"_

_At that, Akira groaned. "Ugh. After the other night, I never want to hear "Operation: **anything** " out of your mouth again."_

_"That's...uh, yeah, that's fair."_

_As she helped the boys dig through Akira's things to find a change of clothes for Ryuji (eventually settling on a spare pair of jeans and one of Ryuji's own hand-me-down t-shirts), Ann didn't feel better. Not really._

_(( Well, I said I wanted to know more, and I do. I just have no freaking idea what to do with it. ))_

_(( Akira has clearly been through a lot. I can see why he wouldn't want to tell us...but the way he spoke....I'm worried. Does he really blame himself? ))_

_(( I guess I can understand. He didn't want me blaming myself for what Kamoshida did to Shiho, but I still...anyway. It's hard. I get it. ))_

_Ann's eyes fell on the back of her friend's fluffy black head. On Ryuji's arm slung over his shoulder. On Yusuke, serving as a somewhat bemused temporary coat rack for a jumble of Akira's clothes and Ryuji's discarded blazer. On all of them, smiling, despite the clear pain on Akira's face less than a half hour before._

_(( I get it. ))_

_(( And that's why I can't accept his cheerfulness right now. I think I know better than anyone what it feels like to tamp down that feeling of guilt and horror, just to get through your day. I've smiled that exact same smile, just moments after mentally eviscerating myself. ))_

_(( If he really blames himself for his father...god, for his father **burning** , I'm going to find a way to support him. ))_

_(( No matter how freaking hard he makes it. )) ]]_

  
_÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷_

 

  
Shinjuku glittered at night, despite the grime, the graffiti, and the general air of disrepute in the bar and restaurant district where their GPS map indicated Crossroads was located.

Despite the late hour, the streets were crowded and rowdy with the crowd drawn by the area's nightlife. Drunken salarymen bumped elbows with cackling university girls and smarmy, overly-cologned host club guys. The air was electric in that uncomfortable, anything-could-happen vibe, and Akira found himself genuinely grateful to have Yusuke and Ryuji by his side.

_Even if I was lying earlier about being glad they were coming...It's possible that I would have been in over my head. Ugh._

The trio stuck close together as they forced their way through a crowded, narrow alley, Ryuji apologizing awkwardly after elbowing a disgruntled college student in the backpack, throwing him off balance. "I said I was sorry, man, I didn't--"

Akira tugged on his elbow. "Ryuji, he's so drunk he'll forget you the second we're out of sight. Just keep walking."

Music blasted in pulses from the door of a neon-lit club, and Akira stepped back slightly to read the sign. He shook his head.

_Still not crossroads. There are so many bars packed in these sidestreets, even the map isn't helping much. I'd just ask someone, but..._

A bouncer standing outside scowled at him, appearing about to say something, and Akira skittered away.

"The clash of colors and aesthetics here...it is overwhelming, and not at all pleasing, I must admit." Yusuke looked queasy, and Akira found himself reminded of the artist's reaction to the scent of the reporter's business cards, all those weeks ago.

_He must really hate the smell of alcohol._

"I'm sorry, Yusuke. Just try to keep an eye out for Crossroads, okay?"

"Yes. Of course."

The air was muggy and stifling. The atmosphere seemed to raise the level of both irritation and inebriation in the party district's patrons, and Akira wondered once again just _why_ this woman would need to meet him _here_ of all places.

_If I'd have known what kind of area this was....I mean, I knew it was a bar, but...._

He glanced back at Ryuji, who was staring wide-eyed at a red-lit bar, cheeks crimson, a cursive _[_ _Girls, girls, girls!] _reflected in his eyes. His hands fidgeted with the string on the hoodie Akira had lent him.

_I would have fought harder not to bring them here. Besides, after everything...I wanted a few minutes to myself._

Akira's stomach churned guiltily as he recalled what he'd told his friends. The school details were fine, but the rest...

_They thought I was opening up. I guess, in some way I was. I....had liked them not knowing that about me, even if they don't seem to hate me for it. But..._

He chewed his lip, eyes darting from neon sign to neon sign, pulse pounding in tune with the discordant rhythm of at least three different club beats fighting for dominance in the unnaturally pink-hued night.

_I just gave them the same spiel I give everyone who pries too much. "Just tell them something shocking enough that they figure that **must** be the big, bad thing, and they'll be content with it."  Something that's public knowledge anyway, if you look for it._

_Because yeah. For the average person, "Hey, I lit my dad on fire once," would be enough to get across how bad you are. Or why you might act strange._

_In the past, having people accept it and leave it at that was always a relief, in a way. But with them...._

Akira watched Yusuke's face, tinged green in pulses from some sort of strobe light, crane into the window of another bar, arms crossed tightly over his thin chest, the studs on his leather jacket glittering in the dark. He'd smiled at Akira when he chose it in the attic, but now he looked like he wished he could be swallowed up in it, like a protective shield.

_Somehow it feels wrong. Like that's not what I'm supposed to do with them._

Yusuke's eyes found his, shadowed in the dark. His thin lips twisted unhappily as he shook his head. Akira shrugged, then took his elbow, slowly guiding them toward a more quiet street ahead.

_But why burden him, or any of them, with something that can't be helped?_

In the quieter alley, Akira pulled his phone out again. "Let's take a second to check the map again, guys. It can't be far."

"Yeah, that sounds g--eugghh." A thick, squelching sound, and Ryuji audibly gagged. Akira winced in sympathy, as Ryuji had stepped in something that looked suspiciously like vomit. "Oh. Oh, that's friggin disgusting. Dammit!" He kicked a glass beer bottle in frustration, and it clattered down the cobblestone alleyway, dinging off the side of a card table where a pair of young men and a blonde woman were seated, looking surprisingly intense for people sitting at a tiny plastic table in a dingy alley.

The blonde looked up at them, startled, and then frowned in apparent disappointment. "Please quiet down," she requested softly. "I am trying to work here, and this couple deserves the best experience that I can give them."

"Oh, shit. Sorry, ma'am."

She softened at his apology, gently fingering the deck of tarot cards that sat before her on the table. "Thank you. If you'll wait your turn, I'd be happy to give a reading to you or your friends. But for now, I must give these two my full attention."

"Oh, no, that's okay." Ryuji wandered back to Akira, then began scraping the soles of his sneakers against a concrete stoop. Yusuke stared at the map on his phone, then peered into the alley, trying to get their bearings.

For his own part, Akira found himself interested in watching the young fortune-teller work. He'd become familiar with the Arcana through his questionable "rehabilitation" with Igor and the twin wardens, but he'd never seen tarot cards used in reality.

Her two young patrons seemed equally enraptured. Before the shorter brunette, she set a single card. "The Magician. You've often found yourself becoming the spark of inspiration for other people's great deeds. There's a fire about you, a liveliness, and it is easy for others to get caught up in it and be carried away."

The gray-haired boy seated beside him squeezed his hand, smiling fondly. "She isn't wrong there."

The fortune-teller looked up at him with care. "However, you may find yourself feeling less-than. Like, 'why do they get the spotlight, instead of me?' Or you may find yourself afraid that once you've lit their torch, they'll have no further use for you."

The brunette mumbled, seeming embarrassed. "Yeah, I _have_ felt that way in the past. This guy always tells me I'm an idiot for it, though."

His date bumped his shoulder with his own. "Because you are. I'd never have gotten anywhere without you. That's true. But with you, I'd be happy staying perfectly still, too."

"Aw, partner..."

Akira flushed. This felt a little too personal to eavesdrop on. He wasn't sure why he was drawn to watch this scene so closely, but...

He turned to leave, accidentally dropping his phone as he did so. He crouched to grab it, and as he did, saw he'd drawn the attention of the fortune-teller's patrons. Akira's eyes met the gray-haired boy's just for an instant, but that was enough to feel a strand of fate stretch taut between them, with a jolt that made his eyes go wide.

The other boy mirrored his expression, his mouth temporarily slack with shock as his eyes darted over Akira's face. His date shook his shoulder curiously, trying to draw his attention back. "....Yu?"

"Just a second, I....Hey, you! Do I know you?" Akira's heartbeat quickened, because he'd also felt a similar sensation. He knew he'd never seen this face before, but...

_[[ I am thou, thou art I... ]]_

"Do you? Maybe, I--" He reached a hand out, only to find it grasped in Ryuji's and tugged out of the alley. "Ryuji, wait, what--"

"Man, I found it! Crossroads is just up the road, see it? I--"

For just a second, Akira saw the gray-haired boy (Yu?) rise from his seat, looking like he wanted to follow. But, too swiftly, the trio was swallowed by the crowd as Ryuji dragged him closer to the bar where the reporter, Ohya, was waiting.

_What was that?_

Akira's head spun as he followed his friends down the litter-strewn street.

_I've felt 'connections' here and there before, but that was different._

He rubbed his chest idly, as if by doing so he could somehow grasp the end of the "thread" that he'd felt mentally connecting him to the stranger.

_I'll have to go back there another night. Maybe that tarot reader will still be there._

For now, he had no choice but to steel himself and to step into the Crossroads Bar.

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
_[[  Ryuji grumbled in his seat at the bar as he sipped his 'complimentary' water beside Yusuke. They'd both been banished to the counter by that reporter woman, and though they could still see Akira from where they were seated, he still didn't like it._

_He didn't like any of this._

_The smell of booze made his head ache, and stepping in that puddle of puke...._

_(( Reminded me of the time I dropped my teddy bear in dad's vomit in the hall, back when.... ))_

_Ryuji kicked his leg against the counter anxiously, trying to banish the memories. As he did so, the opulently dressed woman running the bar glanced over, giving him a curious look._

_(( Is she a woman? Or is she one of those drag queens? ))_

_He sighed._

_(( Does it matter? Not really, I guess. Not like I'm ever comin' back here. Well, unless Akira needs me to? ))_

_Ryuji stared back at the rear of the bar, where the wildly inebriated woman had dragged his best friend to interrogate him. Akira looked uncomfortable, and it took everything Ryuji had in him not to stomp back there and jump in somehow._

_(( Akira'd just be mad, though. ))_

_(( I think. ))_

_The blonde frowned, his leg still jiggling up and down, foot tapping the metal rung of his barstool. He'd been worried lately. Worried that Akira seemed to need him less, to want him **around** less, to look at him differently._

_Ever since Yusuke had joined the group...._

_Ryuji glanced over at the blue-haired boy, who was staring idly into the space behind the bar, seemingly lost in thought. He had to admit that the weird guy was growing on him, but he was eating up a lot of Akira's time. And now they were **dating**._

_(( Or....going to date? I dunno. How'd I miss that? ))_

_(( Maybe I wanted to miss it. ))_

_His face flushed with a mixture of jealousy and guilt that had cropped up before, and that he hadn't yet figured out. It's not like he had wanted to date Akira..._

_(( Ughhh. No. ))_

_He was definitely, 100% straight, and had never really had any doubts about that. Now was no different._

_But, when he made himself admit it...there might have been a part of him that had liked being the center of Akira's attention for a little while._

_Maybe if Akira had a crush on him, he wouldn't ditch him like his other friends had. And now, he had another friend, maybe a **boyfriend** , and was spending less time with him, relying on him less._

_(( Is that what it is? Man, that's lame. ))_

_Ryuji took a chug of his water, trying to get himself to cool off._

_(( If that is what's goin' on with me, I've gotta get over it. S'not like I can hold him back and leave him hanging when I'll never be interested in him like that. ))_

_(( But, man...Yusuke'd better be good for him. Ann seems to think so, but I dunno. He always seems so cold to me. ))_

_Willing himself to speak up and break out of his thoughts, Ryuji mumbled, "Hey, man."_

_Yusuke didn't react._

_Slightly irritated, Ryuji repeated himself a little more loudly. "Hey. Dude. **Yusuke**."_

_"Hm? Oh, I'm sorry." Yusuke seemed to snap himself out of a trance._

_Ryuji scoffed, needling his friend slightly. "What, were you lost in the texture of the wallpaper or somethin'?"_

_Yusuke shook his head, blue hair falling into his eyes. Quietly he murmured, "No. Honestly, I was thinking about what Akira told us earlier. His past..."_

_(( Oh. ))_

_Subdued, Ryuji replied, "Oh, yeah. I had no idea. Did you....?"_

_"No. He doesn't share much with me, if I'm being honest. I had wondered if I'd simply missed the boat, so to speak, on learning about his past. If he had already confided in you and Ann. But it seems...." Yusuke looked thoughtful, but sad._

_(( Man, here I am being shitty and jealous, and Yusuke is worrying about the stuff that matters. No wonder Akira's spendin' more time with him. Well, I'll do better. ))_

_"We'll help him, yeah?" Ryuji bumped his elbow into Yusuke's, and the artist nodded seriously._

_"Yes. It may be an uphill battle. He seems loathe to allow it."_

_"Yeah. You've got that right. But worth it."_

_Yusuke looked back to Akira, who seemed to be typing something the reporter had said into his cellphone. He smiled, and that smile softened his usually severe face so much that, for a second anyway, Ryuji could almost see what Akira might see in him._

_Maybe._

_"You boys need more water? Seems like your friend is taking his sweet time with Ohya." The bartender set her elbows on the counter, surveying them with mild interest._

_"Oh. Uh, no, ma'am, I'm good."_

_She smiled slightly, but warmly, in a way that reached her eyes more than her mouth. " 'Ma'am?' Oh, I like you. You can call me Lala-chan, though." Lala turned to Yusuke. "How about you, kid?"_

_The artist shook his head. "I'm fine with this, thank you. But...." His eyes lit up with interest, and Ryuji groaned internally, wondering what sort of art rant he was going to go on now. Sure enough...._

_"The stitching on your garment. It is exquisite, and not something I'd see in an average storefront. I must ask, did you make it yourself?"_

_Lala's eyes lit up. "Oh, my, thank you! You certainly have a good eye. I can't claim to have made it myself, but a good friend of mine made it for me. He does all of my sewing and tailoring, and I couldn't recommend him highly enough. Why do you ask? Are you interested?"_

_(( He's just being polite, right? Wait. Is Yusuke ever polite just for politeness sake? ))_

_Yusuke smiled, shaking his head. "Not at the moment, no, although I have some experience both in wearing kimono and in costume-making. On that topic, while it was not the best work to come from my class, I did make this." He gestured to his studded leather jacket, and Ryuji blinked in surprise._

_(( Wait, he made that himself? That's....actually kinda badass. ))_

_"Man, I didn't know you made that! Honestly I didn't realize people **could** make stuff like that by hand."_

_Lala-chan seemed impressed. "Working in leather like that couldn't have been easy, especially if you consider yourself a beginner. You've got talent, kid. You know, you could make some money creating custom pieces like that."_

_Yusuke looked genuinely taken aback at the statement. "Money...for something such as this? I couldn't possibly..."_

_She leaned forward more heavily, inspecting his collar. Seriously, she inquired, "And why not? I understand if it doesn't interest you. But if you have the skill, and you enjoy it..."_

_Yusuke pulled away slightly. "I'm not confident that I have the talent to create something like this for others. And this isn't the usual direction of my art. I don't..."_

_"Man, I'd totally buy somethin' that cool." Ryuji meant it, too. Maybe not all of those studs--they seemed impractical, or like they'd put somebody's eye out. But....whoa, could he--_

_A sudden burst of excitement ran through him, and he blurted out, "Dude, like, do you think you could recreate my outfit from--" he caught himself as Yusuke's eyes widened, and reined in what he was about to say, "--er, you know, from **there**?"_

_The artist stared at him blankly, and Ryuji began to worry that he'd said something stupid. But, then, he pulled out a small pad of paper from his jacket pocket, and began to jot down something out of his line of sight. "Uhh....Yusuke?"_

_"One moment. I just....I don't want to forget.....Ryuji, thank you. Your brilliance astonishes me!"_

_Ryuji laughed at the unexpected compliment. "My what now? C'mon, man, it wasn't...I mean...."_

_Lala, for her part, seemed to be quietly gloating to herself. "You see? One little push, and you've caught the costuming bug. Here, kid, let me give you my friend's number. I'll let him know that I did. You ever need any tailoring tips, or the best supply shops in town, you get a hold of him, okay? He'll love anyone who enjoyed my outfit this much."_

_She pushed a paper across the counter, but Yusuke seemed oblivious, caught up in whatever he was happily sketching._

_Ryuji chuckled to himself, taking the paper. "He, uh, gets like this sometimes. I'll give it to him later."_

_Lala smiled at him. "You seem like a good friend to him. Weird kids need buddies like you to stand up with them. I'd know." She glanced over at Ohya fondly, and Ryujj began to suspect why **this** bar was where they'd been called to, despite the iffy location and the inconvenience._

_(( I'm a good friend to him? I dunno about that. I've been... ))_

_He felt a little ashamed, after his earlier thoughts. But also, hopeful. If other people could see the potential for a real friendship there...._

_"You stick with him, okay?"_

_"Yeah. 'Course."_

_(( He 'needs a friend like me'? Yeah. Maybe he does. This guy always has his head in the clouds. Somebody's gotta make sure he isn't walking into traffic, I guess. ))_

_(( And I guess he's a little cooler than I thought. ))_

_Ryuji leaned back in his seat, watching Yusuke sketch away, as Lala-chan retreated to check in on Akira and Ohya in their booth._

_(( Right. It doesn't have to be all-or-nothin'. Akira can have more guy friends than just me, and I can too. And then we'll **all** be closer, right? ))_

_Across the bar, Akira held out his hand to hold off on a refill of his water glass, then rose, seeming to be thanking the reporter. Ryuji tapped Yusuke on the shoulder, catching a glimpse of his sketch._

_(( Dude....is that....me? There's no way that my outfit looks half that badass! Yusuke's kinda awesome, I guess I have to admit... ))_

_"Dude, looks like we've gotta go."_

_"Hm? Oh, I see. Very well."_

_He pocketed the sketchbook just in time to greet a very frazzled looking Akira, who walked them out of the bar, quietly recounting what he had learned from Ohya -- most importantly, a name: Junya Kaneshiro._

_And, when Yusuke's hand found Akira's under the dusky Shinjuku streetlights as they wound their way through the alleys toward the station, Ryuji found himself smiling for them, not **quite** as jealous to be trailing behind the pair as he had been before._

_Not quite, anyway._   _]]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Yusuke getting a minor social link through Lala's friend? Will Yu and Yosuke ever show up again? It's a mystery.... 😎
> 
>  
> 
> .....
> 
> But also I can't stop imagining a tiny toddler Ryuji crying because his teddy bear was covered in drunk puke, and an exhausted mom-Sakamoto carefully washing it and hugging him. Why do I???


	37. Banshees and Bralettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoa this chapter got out of hand. I meant for it to get a little further time-wise than it did, but, ehhh....hopefully you all enjoy it! We'll make it to the Palace next time. 
> 
> Makoto makes it clear that she intends to be a hands-on blackmailer, Kawakami needs a minor, canon rescue, and a bit of jealousy forces Akira's hand. ;)
> 
> Thank you everyone for the comments & kudos! They keep me going :')

"I _told_ you you'd be exhausted if you stayed out all night," Morgana gloated as Akira pulled on his blazer, wincing at the morning sun streaming through his window. It was unexpectedly bright today. He wondered if it would be hotter out than usual.

_Didn't Morgana say once that heat in reality would have an effect on Shadows in Mementos? Although I guess it's unlikely that this would qualify for an actual 'heat wave...'_

"Yeah, yeah, I know." His head ached, and he was dying for some coffee, but it was too late for that if he wanted to catch the train on time. "Yusuke? Are you up?"

"Mmmmphhh." An unintelligible groan informed him that his roommate wasn't faring any better. Dragging himself to his feet, Akira crossed the attic and parted the thick canvas curtain. As he did so, he noted that the back of it was covered in a series of smudged scribbles and paint spatter, already a victim of Yusuke's artistic pursuits.

_Honestly, now that I think of it, I'm surprised he hasn't started painting the walls or something. I wonder if Boss **would** let him do a mural? It would brighten the place up more, that's for sure._

Yusuke was a lanky tangle of limbs, hair pasted to his face with what Akira strongly suspected was drool. He'd fallen asleep in the clothes he'd come home in, adding to his dishevelment. Akira shook his head, smiling despite himself.

_He's really pretty cute, messy like this._

He knelt beside Yusuke's futon and prodded his shoulder. "Yusuke. Hey, you have to get up."

Yusuke stretched, then burrowed his face deeper into his pillow. "I'd really rather not..."

Akira sighed, yearning after his own bed. "Same. But we have about five minutes to spare before we're in danger of missing the train."

He continued poking Yusuke until he finally rolled over, blinking owlishly. His face was still flushed from sleep, and Akira couldn't resist brushing the hair from his heavy-lidded eyes. "And as cute as you are all sleepy like this, I really can't risk missing school."

"Cute? I...." Yusuke blinked, then finally opened his eyes fully, seeming aware of what was happening for the first time. He sat up slightly, then gestured at his crumpled clothes. "Surely not, in this state. But, ah....thank you, regardless. It seems our late night got the best of me."

"You know, you don't have to be all polished for me to think you're cute. I like you anyway, drool and all."

".....Drool? Oh, how embarrassing. Please, look away." Yusuke grimaced, peeling the hair from his face and scrubbing his mouth with his shirt sleeve. Akira just laughed, standing.

"All right, all right. I'm heading downstairs. I'll wait a couple of minutes, if you want to walk to the station together."

"Yes, please. I only need a moment to gather myself. I'm just thankful that I didn't sleep in my uniform again..."

From behind him, Morgana groaned. "Akira, can you stop flirting? We have to go!"

"Yeah, yeah." Akira strolled back toward the attic stairs, then stooped to let Morgana leap into his bookbag. He needed to be present for the Thieves meeting after school, now that they had a name.

_Junya Kaneshiro....._

Akira ruminated as his feet pounded down the stairs. He'd never heard the name before, but he supposed that wasn't surprising. It's not like the local mob boss would _advertise_.

_I wonder if Iwai would know anything about him? Then again, he seems to already have a lot on his plate. Better to leave that for a last resort, if we can't figure out his keywords on our own._

From behind the counter, Sakura grumbled, "I was about ready to pound on the ceiling with a broom if you waited any longer to get up. You know, it's your own responsibility to get to school on time..."

Awkwardly, Akira scratched the back of his neck. "I know, Boss. Sorry."

"And here I made breakfast for you kids and everything, and you won't even have time to eat it. And your friend there _needs_ it." Sakura glowered slightly, gesturing to two long-cooled plates of curry on the counter and twin mugs of coffee and tea. At that, Akira really did feel a little guilty.

Also, that coffee was still incredibly tempting, even if it was stone cold.

"Will it still be good if we take it for lunch?" Akira ignored Sakura's grimace as he chugged the tepid coffee, desperate for caffeine. Really, it wasn't as bad as he'd feared.

"Ugh, kid, I would have made you a new one. And yeah, I'll scrape it in a box for you, but then you need to get going!"

"Thanks, Boss. What would I do without you?"

Akira was pretty sure he heard the man grumble _"...starve, I guess.....live on the streets....drink instant coffee....crazy kids...."_ as he dug a couple of to-go boxes out of the kitchen.

_Hah. So like Boss to put "drink instant coffee" on par with "live on the streets."_

_When did he become so...fatherly? Or what I imagine someone being "fatherly" is like. Sometimes I'd swear that he actually likes having us here, despite how much he complains._

_Regardless...I really am grateful. I didn't know home could be like this for someone like me._

Sakura handed him the boxes just as Yusuke stumbled down the stairs in a half-run, eyes wide.

"Am I too late?"

"For breakfast, yeah. But we can still make the train if we hurry."

Together, the pair dashed through the jingling door of Leblanc, Morgana yowling in protest at his bumpy ride.

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Between classes, Akira was summoned to the student council room, far too loudly for his comfort. As he'd expected, whispers dogged his steps through the hall.

_"Ooh, what did the transfer student do this time?"_

_"Didn't you hear? Yamada-kun said he nearly punched him out in the bathroom the other day, totally unprovoked!"_

_"Whaaaa?! That's crazy. But he **is** on probation for assault..."_

He walked more quickly, head down, fists clenched in his pockets.

_Just stop looking at me. Just **stop** it._

_Please...._

More than ever, he wished that he could melt into the shadows here like he could in the Metaverse.

_Wouldn't that be something? Then again, once I did it....I get the feeling it would be beyond tempting to stay in a shadow and never come back out._

Akira peered into the Student Council room and couldn't honestly say that he was surprised to see Makoto Nijima seated alone at the small table in the center of the sterile, boring room, looking like she was preparing to give him a work performance review.

He scowled, and she caught the expression, frowning severely. "So, you're here. Took you long enough. Have a seat." She gestured to the folding chair directly across the table from herself, but he chose to stand instead, leaning against the door he shut behind himself. Her frown deepened, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

_Is she serious? It's been **one day** since she thrust this on us._

"Yeah, I'm here. The question is _why_?"

"Why?" Nijima looked slightly startled, then schooled her expression into a careful neutrality. "I should think that would be obvious. I'd like a report on your progress."

_She's treating me like I **work** for her. That isn't how this works._

Akira chewed the inside of his cheek, irritated. The last thing he wanted to deal with was this girl breathing down his neck. It was bad enough that they'd found their newest target through her, after _she'd threatened his friends._

"We have made progress. I really don't have anything more to say to you. Can I go now?" He turned to leave, hoping to exit before she could protest.

No such luck.

"Excuse me? I'm not finished with you!" She'd raised her voice, a hint of genuine ire slipping through her controlled facade. He took a deep breath to control his rising temper, turning to face her again. Those red eyes were boring into him, and he'd had enough of it.

_Can't everyone just **stop** looking at me? I just want to do what I need to do and get on with it._

He spat bitterly, "Just what do you _want_ from me? What can you think you'll actually get out of this?"

Nijima's eyes widened. She looked genuinely offended. "Get out of this? So you think I have some selfish motive?"

He stared down his nose at her, scowling. To her merit, she refused to wilt. "Obviously. Don't you? Even if you actually think you're trying to help the student body....it's still selfish isn't it?"

Akira adjusted his glasses, looking away. More quietly, he continued, "You want a better reputation for yourself. Or a safer school. Or to get the administration off your back. Or just to stop having to listen to people complain about their problems. Even if none of those is right...there's something."

Out of his line of sight, Nijima spoke up, slowly and surprisingly thoughtfully. "That's...a really cynical way to look at it. I suppose you aren't wrong though. I do have some selfish motives, when you put it that way. But mostly..."

Despite himself, he glanced back over at her, and from the corner of his eye, saw that she'd taken on a strangely determined look. Strange, considering she wasn't the one who would be _doing_ any of this. "I want to believe that people have the capacity to be just. That wrongs can be righted. I suppose, in some way, that would be comforting."

He shrugged dismissively. "Well, as long as you admit it, I guess it isn't a problem."

"Thanks, I guess?" Nijima sounded a little bewildered at the turn her intended interrogation had taken. "But hey! When did this turn into _you_  of all people deciding if _I_ was a problem?"

He clenched a fist silently.

_Because you **are** a problem!_

Turning again to stare her down, he replied coldly, "When you decided to solve your problems by transferring the danger to my friends." At that, she did wilt, albeit only slightly.

"That's..." She grimaced, fiddling with the spine of a notepad she'd had prepared, laid out on the desk.

_Did she actually think she'd be taking notes? What did she expect, a PowerPoint presentation on our efforts to identify and take down the local mob boss?_

Seeming to catch herself, she straightened the skewed notepad, then nodded slightly. "I see. But you know, it's hard for me too. I hate to admit it, but I really am powerless here."

"Hm. I guess so." She wasn't wrong, but Akira couldn't see how that was his problem to solve today. He put his hand on the door handle, then hesitated as she called out his name.

"Hey, Kurusu-kun!"

"Hm? What now?" His voice was more exhausted than irritated at this point. He didn't have the energy for this.

"What is yours?"

"My...?"

"Your motive, I mean. If you really think that even altruism is inherently selfish. How are you selfish in this?"

_That's what she wants to know? I..._

He didn't want to turn to face her again. Instead, he mumbled to the half-open door, "I can't say I have some grand motive or ideal to live up to." Akira closed his eyes for a moment, his stiff shoulders collapsing as he considered just how much to admit.

"It's not like I'm really fighting for the concept of justice. I guess...if I had to put a word to it, I'd say that I find it cathartic."

"Cathartic?" She sounded....not exactly puzzled. _Skeptical_ was the feeling he settled on to describe her tone.

Half to himself, he continued, "Watching the masks these people built for themselves be torn away...It's cathartic. Everyone should have to face up to their true identity, even if that real self is utterly despicable."

"Hmmm...." Nijima hummed, seeming to consider his words.

When she answered, however, her voice dripped with condescension. "Their true identity...so do you think your 'true self' is some virtuous ideal who is worthy of passing judgement on others?"

_"Passing judgement?" My "true self"?_

_...I should have kept my mouth shut._

She continued, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Do you hope someday the people here will finally understand that you are a good person, and your life will improve?"

Akira turned one final time, and something in his expression wiped the mirth from her face.

"No."

He smiled an odd, wilted smile, then left, successfully that time.

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

As the final schoolbell rang, Akira held his bag open for Morgana to leap into, while Ann leaned over the back of her chair to ask, "Shibuya Square, right?"

"Yeah. Just meet me by the Teikyu building."

"Will do. Hey, Akira..." She held a hand out to grab the strap of his bag before he could wander away. "What did Nijima-senpai want earlier? Should we be worried?"

He shook his head, smiling as convincingly as he could. "Nah. Just being nosy about our progress. Well, hopefully after today, we'll have more to show, right?"

Ann's outstretched hand released him to transform into a thumbs up as she nodded in agreement. "Right! What a relief. Okay, see you in a few."

"Bye!"

As Akira trudged through the classroom door, Morgana spoke up, nose poking through the zipper of his schoolbag. "You didn't lie, I guess, but the conversation with that girl seemed way more unpleasant to me than that."

Akira shrugged, then reached a hand out to poke that tiny nose. Morgana huffed, receding. "I guess. I don't think they'd expect anything different from someone who is essentially blackmailing us, though. Now quiet down, at least until we're out of the school."

_The last thing I need is for the school to think I'm talking to myself or, like, hearing voices. Ughh._

_Speaking of voices....._

A familiar voice, sounding distressed, reached his ears from down the hall. He looked both ways, confirming that it was who he thought it was, and that no other students were around.

Walking cautiously forward, he eavesdropped on the conversation between Sadayo Kawakami and her apparent allergy-prone nemesis, Chouno-sensei. The latter had cornered the former at the end of the hall, and appeared to be berating her about her work ethic.

One hand on her hip, her lipsticked mouth pouted angrily as she gestured in frustration at Akira's beleaguered homeroom teacher. "Do you really think it's appropriate for you to be missing yet _another_ staff meeting? How do you think that looks to the administration? And what sort of example are you setting to your students?"

Kawakami looked exhausted, and beyond flustered. "I know. It's just that--"

Chouno continued her tirade. "It's just inexcusable! And after everything that the school has gone through with the 'Kamoshida Incident..."" She made air quotes with her fingers sharply. "...the staff can't afford to look sloppy. You're dragging us all down."

Akira frowned at the body language between the two women. He didn't know exactly how good of a teacher Kawakami actually was, or anything about her work ethic, but surely she didn't deserve being cornered and berated like this.

He had to speak up, even if it was likely he'd be made to regret it. "Excuse me, Kawakami-sensei?"

Kawakami's eyes flashed to his, initially with a look of pure relief, fading to confusion and frustration as she saw who her would-be rescuer was. "Yes, Kurusu-kun?"

Chouno rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you can see that we are in the middle of a conversation, Kurusu. Can't you wait?"

_What can I say? Umm..._

He rubbed the side of his face awkwardly, deliberately appearing abashed and apologetic. "Sorry, Chouno-sensei. I'd hoped to speak with Kawakami-sensei before I left school today, as I had a few questions about what she went over in class...."

As he'd hoped, Kawakami seized on his words. Eyes wide, she went along with it. "Yes, that's....that's right. As you know, Kurusu-kun only recently transferred, and there are some gaps between the subject matter that was covered in his previous school and my current instructional material."

To his and Kawakami's mutual shock, Chouno's eyes lit up with sudden, frankly overwhelming enthusiasm. "Oh! Oh I see, so _that's_ what you've been doing after school?! Taking the time to mentor and tutor even this delinquent? Kawakami-san, you are a model teacher after all!"

Akira stifled a grimace.

_The delinquent line again? And Chouno should know herself that my grades aren't **that** bad. But whatever...she seems to have convinced herself, anyway._

"Um. Yes, something like that. So, if you would excuse us....?" Kawakami tilted her head toward the hall, and Chouno nodded.

"Yes, of course! Don't let me hold you up. I'll cover for you at the staff meeting tonight." Heels clacked down the hall as Ms. Chouno darted downstairs to the staff room.

Kawakami groaned, eyeing Akira skeptically. "Well that went...a little too well. So what did you _actually_ want? You know you're supposed to have forgotten all about the other day, right?"

Akira huffed. "You know, I _really_ wish that I could." He leaned against a wall, trying to give her space to get her bearings after being cornered. She seemed to relax, if only slightly. "Should I not have stepped in? It just seemed like she was giving you a hard time, and I...I don't think you deserve that."

He'd hoped to bolster her a little with that, but instead, she looked away, her face darkening. "And if I do?" She paused, then shook her head. "Nevermind. Listen, I don't need a kid like you taking pity on me, okay?"

_Even now? "A kid like you...."_

Akira flinched visibly, and Kawakami blinked, seeming slightly regretful. She sighed, backtracking. "....No, I'm sorry, that was too harsh. You did help me out back there, didn't you?" She stared at him intently, seeming to be trying to gauge something. Just _what_ , Akira couldn't tell.

_Does she think I'm a threat? Or is she trying to decide if I'm trustworthy? Do I just have something on my face?_

Akira stood as still as he possibly could, like he was attempting to gain the trust of a skittish animal. Something not exactly tame, but not dangerous either--a squirrel, maybe.

_Okay, that's a little too specific._

Finally, his teacher sighed, looking embarrassed but resigned. "Listen. I can tell you're curious, and you don't seem the type to just let things go, right?"

Akira allowed himself a small smile. "You're not wrong. I'm sorry if I'm prying, but between this and....er....the other night...." They both flushed. He coughed awkwardly. "....it just seems like you may be in trouble."

Kawakami opened her mouth to talk, then pressed it shut again, a flash of anxiety overtaking her face as a gaggle of students approached from the other end of the hall. Quietly, she mumbled, "Listen. I can't talk here. But request me some night, and...well....I won't lie and say that I'll tell you _everything_ , but...I guess you at least deserve something. You _have_ kept my secret after all."

_Request her? How am I supposed to get away with calling a maid again, after the close call last time?_

Akira blanched, imagining Sakura's reaction if the man were to catch him with a cat-eared maid in his room.

_Then again, **I** have her cat ears....No, aghh, beside the point._

"Okay. I will. But can you.... _not_ wear the get-up, please?"

Kawakami seemed to consider it, slowly strolling backward out of her corner. " _That'd_ be a nice break. No promises though, if I'm heading over after another job."

"I....guess that's fair." Akira thought for a moment, then mumbled, mostly to himself, _"If she does, maybe I can pass her off as a model? Boss seems to have accepted that Yusuke is pretty eccentric..."_

"What's that?" Kawakami raised an eyebrow, and Akira held his hands out in denial.

"Nothing, Kawakami-sensei. I'll make it work."

At that, they parted, and Akira's head spun.

_I find myself in the strangest situations, I swear....I wonder what Yusuke will think of this?_

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

Akira and Ryuji sat together on the edge of a tall, brick planter, waiting for Yusuke to arrive so that they could begin their meeting. Ann had just wandered off to order a tray of bubble tea for the group, leaving the pair to talk alone for a moment.

Ryuji stretched his leg out, groaning. "Ahhh. It's felt good to be trainin' again, but man is it harder than I thought it would be."

Akira looked at him with concern. "Are you doing okay? Oh! That reminds me!" His face brightened for a moment, and Ryuji raised an eyebrow. Akira dug in his bag, easier now with Morgana off to trail behind Ann. He withdrew a small, generic-looking white plastic tub, handing it to Ryuji.

"What's this?"

Feeling a little proud of himself for being useful, Akira unscrewed the lid as Ryuji held it. A pungent, mentholated aroma wafted from the container, and Ryuji crinkled his nose. "I asked Takemi the other day if she had anything non-uhh.... _controlled substance related_ for muscle and joint pain, and she mixed up this compound. I was hoping it would help with your leg pain. There shouldn't be anything too weird in it. Although it _is_ Takemi...still, she hasn't killed us yet!" He smiled nervously, leaning back balanced on his palms to watch Ryuji's reaction.

"For real?" Ryuji stared at the container skeptically, but as he saw Akira's rare, clear enthusiasm, he broke into a smile. "Yeah, man, I'll give it a shot. Can't hurt right? Maybe uhh...not right here, though."

Akira laughed, "Yeah, that would be awkward. But let me know if it helps, and I'll get you more. Or if it doesn't, and then I'll see what else she can make."

_I really hope this helps him. He's always pushing himself physically, both in reality **and** in the Metaverse. I know it isn't much, but..._

Ryuji screwed the lid back on, then stashed the salve in his schoolbag. To Akira's surprise, his expression had gone surprisingly serious. "Ryuji...you okay? Did I do something?"

Seeming to catch himself, Ryuji smiled a little, shaking his head. But he couldn't fully banish the quiet confusion that furrowed his brow. "No, man. S'not that. It's just....I dunno....it's been so long since I injured it, most people seem to have forgotten that it might still bother me. Even my ma, like...don't get me wrong, I know she loves me, and she tries her best--"

His eyes had widened at that, seeming to really want to communicate that he believes in her. Akira nodded seriously. "I know she does. When I met her, she seemed really kind."

"Yeah, she is...." Ryuji looked a little wistful, at that. He leaned back against a small tree, hands behind his head, a few pale freckles showing in the afternoon sunlight. "And I mean, she still keeps some Tylenol around for me and shit. But I don't want her to worry, so I guess I try to downplay it. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is....it, uh...it matters to me that you noticed, man. So, uh...thanks."

_That's....I'm glad._

"Of course. You're my friend, Ryuji. You know, you're always on my mind. I'm _going_ to notice stuff.." Akira meant it to come out slightly playful, but from the way Ryuji reddened and looked away, maybe he'd been a bit over the top.

Ryuji was saved from responding when Ann and Morgana reappeared, the former bearing drinks. "Oh, thank friggin' god. It's hot as hell out here today." He buried his face in the first bubble tea he could grab, ignoring Ann as she grumped, "HEY! _Ryuji_ , that one was mine!"

"Ughhh..." She settled onto the bricks beside Akira, handing him a matcha-flavored tea. Then, she dug a shallow, wide-mouthed plastic cup out of her purse. It was clearly a children's novelty cup, clear blue and patterned with chibi versions of the cast of Featherman R. As Morgana leapt beside her, she asked him, "Can you drink tea, or do you want some water?"

The not-cat seemed genuinely touched. "Lady Ann...you were carrying that around all day for _me_? I....uh....water is fine!" He crawled onto Akira's lap to watch her pour it from a water bottle, then grumbled, "Why don't _you_ carry stuff like that for me in your bag?"

Akira laughed around the straw of his bubble tea. "Because if I had all of that in my bag, there's be no room for _you_."

"Fair...I _guess_....."

"Yusuke's still not here yet, huh?" Ann asked, adjusting her skirt. She looked up to stare into the crowd streaming from the train station, shadowing her face with one hand as she squinted into the sun. "Actually....wait, is that....yeah, there he is!"

Sure enough, Yusuke approached them, looking flustered, overheated, and entirely ruffled.

_Uh oh. He looks....less than happy._

Akira rose in alarm, dashing over to greet him. "Yusuke, are you all right?"

"I...." Yusuke grabbed a tuft of his now-frazzled blue hair, grimacing. He seemed entirely overwhelmed, and at a loss for words.

Akira felt his heartbeat quicken at his hesitation. Had something happened?!

He put a hand on each of Yusuke's shoulders, steadying him. "What happened? Something at Kosei?" Yusuke nodded silently. "Is it...it isn't your scholarship, is it?!"

_If it is....shit, what will we do? Boss said he'd say something to them about it, but what can he really--_

"N...no, nothing that alarming...." Yusuke frowned, seeming embarrassed. By now, Ann and Ryuji had joined them in the shade of the building leading down to the underground walkway.

_That's good, at least...._

Akira breathed a small sigh of relief, releasing Yusuke's shoulders with one parting squeeze. "Then....what?"

"Somethin' happen, dude?" Ryuji lounged against the side of the building, sipping his tea. He looked nonchalant, but Akira knew him well enough by now to tell that he was at least a _little_ worried.

Ann pressed a cold tea into his hand. Akira noted that she'd bought him a plain iced tea instead of the overly sweet bubble tea she'd given the rest of them. Yusuke stared at the drink in his hands, looking slightly stunned.

She smiled at the overwrought artist kindly, then suggested, "Why don't we find somewhere shady to sit down, and you can tell us about it?"

Yusuke nodded, exhaling. "Very well."

They settled together, squished onto a particularly shady bench just off of the station square. Akira couldn't help feeling a bit....warm at his proximity to Yusuke, though he chastised himself for thinking like that when he was clearly upset.

Yusuke drank his tea slowly, appearing to gather his thoughts. Not quickly enough for Ryuji, who grumbled after a minute, "You gonna talk, man, or what?"

"Yes. I...er...apologize if I made the situation seem dire. It really isn't anything like that. I've just had...." He frowned at his tea. "A very, very strange day."

"Strange how?" Akira asked gently.

"It appears I now have a...er....fan club? Of sorts?" Yusuke seemed dazed at the entire concept.

"A _what_?!" Akira hasn't meant to shout, but that was....the absolute last thing he'd expected to come out of Yusuke's mouth.

"Yeah dude, you're gonna have to elaborate on that." Ryuji was clearly barely restraining laughter, and by the looks of it, Ann was right there with him.

At their feet, Morgana spoke up, "Well, it shouldn't be so surprising! There must be a certain _allure_ to the aura of a Phantom Thief!"

"Yeah, but I don't got any damn _fan club!_ None of us do!"

Ann raised a hand, looking a little abashed. "Errrr.... _actually.._.."

"For real?! Aw, wait, you're a model though, that doesn't count."

" **How does that not count?** **It totally counts!"** Ann sounded genuinely offended. Akira, however, felt that they were getting more than a little off track.

"Yusuke, _what_ exactly....?"

"Yes....right...." Looking grim, Yusuke began to recount what had happened at Kosei that day.

"Apparently after I was....mentioned....on the news, more attention has been drawn to my person. Up until now, I'd assumed that my peers had mostly ignored me, but it has been brought to my attention that some were merely.... intimidated? I'm not sure if that is the right word...." He grimaced.

"But at lunch today, a group of first year girls accosted me, inquiring as to whether I would sign something. I assumed it was a petition of some sort, and attempted to demur, but it turned out to be a, ah....handkerchief?" Yusuke blinked in a look of exquisite bewilderment.

_I see where this is going....._

Akira couldn't help the little curl of jealousy that bloomed in his chest, despite the fact that his almost-boyfriend was clearly equally displeased with the situation. But then Yusuke continued.

"I assumed that it was some bizarre fancy unique to this particular girl and brushed it off, but then...the giggles...." He said "the giggles" in the same tone of ominous foreboding that one might say, "the end of times," and at that, Ryuji could no longer contain his own laughter.

"Dude, you sound, like, traumatized. C'mon, a little attention can't be _that_ bad."

Staring intently into his tea, Yusuke replied. "It was, indeed, that bad. Curious, despite myself, I listened in, and heard the words, 'Tragic Beautiful Art Boy Fan Club.' Not a particularly elegant moniker, I must say...."

Ann chortled. " _That's_ what you're worried about?! The _name_ of your fan club?! Oh, Yusuke...." She snorted.

Yusuke glowered at her. "I don't think it's unreasonable to be displeased by this!"

"Yeah, it's not!" Akira stared her down, maybe a little more sternly than she deserved. "What if your fan club was called, like, I dunno, 'The Stunning Golden Foreign Girl Fan Club' or something?"

She went slightly green. "Don't even joke about that. The actual name of mine is bad enough."

"Oh, oh, now I've gotta know, Ann, what is your--"

" **NEVER**. I am NEVER telling you." She glared daggers, and Ryuji appeared to decide that it wasn't worth risking his life over.

"That's....uh....pretty weird, Yusuke, I'm sorry."

"It became much worse. Upon leaving school, I found a number of articles in my shoe locker, including, but not limited to: Several dating propositions, some very questionable homemade candy, and...and ahh....one clearly-worn bralette. I threw them all away, of course." Yusuke stared into the abyss.

"You _threw them away? **Dude,** that's **brutal** \---_"

"Ohmigod, Yusuke, okay, that **is** bad--"

"Someone put their _**bra**_ in your _**locker**_?!" Akira flushed, imagining the scene. Yusuke, innocently strolling up to retrieve his shoes, only to be confronted by a cascade of bizarre gifts. His thin, gorgeous hands pinching the straps of some delicate, lacy bra, unthinking, only to realize....

"Do I need to stomp over to Kosei and defend your honor?" Akira was only half-joking. Okay, he wasn't joking at all.

Yusuke's eyes widened. "Do you think it is in question?! My honor?! I hadn't considered--"

"--no, no, I'm kidding Yusuke, calm down." Akira assured him, waving his hands in alarm.

_It's not like I don't trust him--and like, I don't exactly have a **claim** on him or anything--but--but like--this is--_

Ann jumped in to save the day. "Yeah, it isn't like you _asked_ to have some weird fan club. Or bras." She paused. "Was it a cute bra, at least?"

"I....I mean, within the confines of pure fashion, I, er, suppose that--"

"And wait, uh, dude what's the difference between a bra and a 'bralette'? Cuz one makes me think of omelettes, and now I--"

"I...ah, one is characterized by the absence of a metal underwire, and--"

"Wait, Yusuke, how do you know _that?!_ You don't--"

Akira interrupted, voice sharp from frustration, " **Ann**! **Ryuji**! Beside the point! Nobody should be putting **bras** in my _**boyfriend's**_ **_locker_**!"

Everyone was quiet.

_Oh. Crap._

_I said it._

Akira's face flushed with heat. "That is, I mean, I....ughhhhhhhhhhh!" He buried his face in his lap, dying inside, his hands still clutching his sweating plastic cup of tea.

"Ooooh, Akira's jealous--" Ryuji taunted, only to be punched and hushed by Ann. "Ouch! What'd ya do that for?!"

"Because you're an idiot!"

Beside him, Yusuke murmured with a hint of astonishment, "Akira.... _are_ you? Jealous, I mean? Because I promise, there's no need to be--"

"I....kind of, but it isn't your fault." Akira mumbled miserably into his knees. "I know _you_ don't want friggin bras in your locker. And all that other stuff. It's just, thinking that other people have their eye on you like that. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised. You're gorgeous, and interesting..." Ann audibly _"Awwwwww"d_ at that.

"....and they've all been around you way longer than I have, so it makes sense that they'd have seen it. And I know we aren't, like, official or anything anyway, so....so....I dunno. Forget it."

"Do I have to?"

"Huh?" Akira looked up, and saw that Yusuke was staring at him with a look that bordered on awe. He flushed even deeper.

"Do I have to forget? I mean, that you called me your...I know we were going to wait it out, and have our dates, and I'd planned--"

Hurriedly, Akira blurted, "I know, I'm sorry, it just came out! I, I just got to thinking, and I realized that I was already thinking of you as...uh...." His voice caught in his throat, dropping to a whisper. "As mine...and so...."

_This is horrible, and embarrassing, and I....ughh, why am I saying all of this? I'd already...I wanted to take it slow, and give him a chance to realize, well...._

_But here I am, blurting things out like an--_

"--idiot. Man, you really are."

"Huh?" Ryuji had been speaking, and Akira had apparently missed half of what he'd said while caught in his internal tailspin.

The blonde scoffed, kicking his feet. "I _said_ , you're being an idiot. If you feel that way, you should just say you're boyfriends and be done with it. Not like there's some rules you've gotta follow, or like you can't adjust things down the line. So do what you wanna do now."

Morgana laughed, batting at Ryuji's sneaker. "Ha! You actually said something smart for once!"

"Can it, cat!"

"I'm _not a--_ "

Akira missed the rest of Morgana and Ryuji's fight, focused, reasonably, on the reddened face of the boy beside him. Quietly, Yusuke murmured, "This has been....quite a day. I admit that I'm more than a little overwhelmed."

Guiltily, Akira murmured, "I'm sorry for springing that on you."

"No, don't be sorry." Yusuke sounded sure now, more clear. "It's...it brings me great happiness to hear you express your true feelings regarding me, to express what you genuinely desire. Especially when it lines up with my own hopes." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair out of Akira's eyes. "I must say...in this case, I do agree with Ryuji."

Akira stared, eyes wide.

_Is this.... **Can** I?_

He gulped, watching Yusuke's eyelashes flutter as he blinked, watching him patiently.

_I'm afraid._

_I don't want to break his heart. I know I'm not forever. But....if I'm allowed to be selfish, then...._

He lifted a hand to press his palm to Yusuke's cheek. The artist leaned into it, though he didn't take his eyes off of Akira's face. "Then. Yeah. That's what I want. I'm your boyfriend."

Yusuke's face broke out into a huge, radiant smile, and Akira couldn't help but do the same, smiling so hugely that his cheeks hurt. Despite their public surroundings, he raised his hips from the bench enough to bring their faces together, pressing a small, happy kiss to Yusuke's lips, feeling his smile through it all. They broke apart as Ann squealed, clapping her hands.

He glanced over at her, red, just in time to see her pump a fist in victory. "YES! I knew you two could do it!"

Akira buried his face in Yusuke's shoulder, and his boyfriend--

_"Boyfriend." I have a boyfriend, **holy shit--**_

\--wrapped his arm around his waist. "Aww, Ann, c'mon..."

To Yusuke, he mumbled, embarrassed, "We're still gonna do something about that 'fan club' though. I really will defend you, if you need it."

Yusuke seemed to finally be able to laugh about his earlier ordeal. "I think I'll be able to find a way to handle it. But I promise to notify you immediately if my, er, honor needs protecting."

"Good." Akira burrowed his face deeper into Yusuke's shirt, and smiled as he felt a surprisingly cold hand thread its fingers through his hair.

Ann, Ryuji and Morgana chatted for a minute, then, giving Akira and Yusuke a chance to just quietly bask in the moment. Akira leaned into Yusuke's side, an oasis of cool on the hot spring day.

_I wonder if Goemon keeps him cool in reality too, or if he's always been like this? I'll have to ask him sometime. But for now...._

Yusuke played with his hands, idly maneuvering his fingers into a number of bizarre configurations. Maybe he was mentally cataloguing hand poses for future art. Maybe he just liked playing with hands? Either way, Akira was happy to let him do it, as long as he could continue feeling his hand on his...

But time passed, and he knew they had more to do today, as loathe as he was to break away from this perfect quiet moment. Slowly, as if coming out of a dream, he murmured, "I don't want to stop sitting here like this, Yusuke, but we did come here for a reason."

Yusuke sighed deeply, straightening up. Akira regretted his words almost immediately. "Yes, I know. We have business with one 'Junya Kaneshiro,' yes?"

"Mmhm." Akira squeezed Yusuke's hand one last time, then released it. A little shyly, he added, "But this...it's nice. And maybe tonight, in the attic, we can talk more?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

They stayed pressed to each others' sides, at least, as Akira called the rest of the thieves back over to the bench. Ryuji settled in heavily on his other side. "You love birds done cuddlin' and shit and ready to get down to business?"

"Yeah....we've got to. Anyway. Junya Kaneshiro." Akira leaned back, looking both ways to make sure they weren't being overheard. The crowd, thankfully, seemed mostly oblivious, each person focused on their own destination. "We have a name, but not a location or a keyword. Should we research this more before trying to dive in?"

Ann joined in, sounding worried. "I just don't think we have the time..."

"Ehh, I say we jump right into it. Y'know, if we can." Ryuji elbowed him, seeming more fired up than Akira had expected. "If we can just get in, we'll learn more about the guy straight from his own brain than we would have asking around town."

In his ear, Yusuke murmured, "I suppose that's true..."

Akira opened the Metanav, speaking the name first. "Junya Kaneshiro."

_< < ÷^tar.'get*×confir.med`▪︎>>_

"Not unexpected, but...." He tapped his phone with his index finger. "Now the hard part. We need a location and a distortion."

"A location..." Ann frowned, looking around as though she could pick out the relevant location just by looking around Shibuya. "What, like a secret base or something? His mafia headquarters?"

Ryuji shook his head. "There's no way we could find something like that in a day. What're we supposed to do, walk around all of Shibuya to--"

_< < &loca,?tion//con-firmed°\>>_

"What?!" Akira stared down at his phone. Surely it wasn't...but there it was, plugged into the Nav.

_All of Shibuya....Can we really take down someone that powerful?_

Morgana clawed his way up into Akira's shoulder, forcing his furry face between his and Yusuke's as Akira winced from his needle like claws. "All of Shibuya, huh? I guess it's possible. If he believes the entire neighborhood belongs to him....but the distortion that must take...."

"What does he think Shibuya is?" Yusuke asked, with a hint of dread.

Together, the thieves discussed it, their voices naturally falling into whispers. This was becoming more real. They threw out ideas-- "A, uh, a drug den?" "I hate to say it, but maybe a brothel?" "Ugh, nothing is working."

Finally, Akira thought hard. "A bank?"

_< <Tar:get',vali/dat@ed. _Beginn/ing navi×gation>>_

"Shit--whoaaa--"

"Ah, is this norm--"

"Craaaaaap!"

Before the thieves could gather themselves they were swept away in a familiar, but always gut-churning, wave of shuddering purple.  They gasped collectively at what they saw, as the world coalesced once more. 

 


	38. The Empty City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter today, but this marks the entrance to Kaneshiro's Palace. Things should move more quickly for a while, as I've had large bits of this arc pre-written for a while. (Although I'm sure I'll need to make changes as the story has evolved over time, haha... )
> 
> Shibuya without people is a desolate wasteland, but, as it turns out, not *quite* desolate enough for comfort.

_Makoto Nijima dropped the boxing manga she'd been hiding her face behind in pure astonishment._

_She'd just witnessed her schoolmates, along with a taller, unknown teen (who was evidently dating Kurusu?) and a **cat** vanish into thin air in the middle of Shibuya._

_And somehow....somehow....she seemed to be the only one who had noticed._

_(( How can this be?! Am I losing my mind? ))_

_She raced to the other side of the station square, ignoring the irritated squawks of the strangers she brushed past, craning her neck to glance behind buildings, trees, anywhere they could have vanished to._

_But no._

_Kurusu. Takamaki. Sakamoto. All of them._  
_The Phantom Thieves were gone._

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Shibuya was still....Shibuya. Cast a dim, sickly yellow-purple, but Shibuya. And that felt wrong. So, so wrong. Akira shivered as he took it in.

_How is this possible? The other two Palaces were obviously different. A school transforming into a castle, a shack into a golden atrocity. But this...._

It was eerie. Desolate. Gone were the smiling couples, the housewives calling home on their cellphones, the polished 20-somethings rushing around between university classes.

Shibuya was grey, and it was dead.

The heat of the day had translated into a stifling, choking thickness to the air, unstirred by a single breeze. Maybe it was that deadness to the air that made it still seem so real--Akira had grown used to gauging the differences in the Metaverse by a wrongly floating leaf in the wind, by the shimmer of water that just didn't track quite right to his eyes. Here, there was...nothing.

Across the square, that politician Toranosuke's soapbox still stood, leaning against a dull concrete wall. But it was splintered, devoid of the memory of his enthusiasm. As Akira crept forward, holding his breath unconsciously, he realized that it was covered in a thick blanket of dust. He curled one hand, blowing through it to disturb the coating, and there-- _now_ he could tell he was in the Metaverse.

_Thank goodness..._

The dust refused to reflect any light as it shuddered through the air, then fell to settle back exactly where it had begun. The crate was shrouded again, just as thickly as it had been before he disturbed it.

"Friggin' _weird_ , man..." Akira jumped despite himself, although Ryuji had only whispered. "Whoa dude, sorry, you all right?"

He backed away from the box, shutting his eyes to gather himself. "Yeah. Sorry. I guess seeing Shibuya like this just put me on edge."

Yusuke stepped beside him, and Akira noted that he was in his Fox attire--they all were dressed in their thieving gear, now that he thought to look for it.

_Somehow that isn't as comforting as it usually is._

He tugged at his collar anxiously. In this heavy, muggy air, the thick fabric felt like a choking weight against his throat.

"This place...despite the open space, it's quite claustrophobic, isn't it? We should move on." Yusuke whispered, just as Ryuji had. It seemed that they all sensed the same aura of menace from the lifeless streets.

"Yeah...." Ann murmured. "Somehow, I don't feel right being out in the open. Let's find somewhere more hidden to regroup."

_Where in Shibuya feels safe?_

Akira turned to Morgana. "If we try to head into the subway, will that just lead us into Mementos? How interconnected is this world?"

Ryuji looked alarmed as Morgana thought. "Whoa, Joker, I didn't think about that. Are shadows gonna start pouring out of the train station?"

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, as the four human-shaped thieves slowly rotated their heads to stare, wide-eyed, into the desolation of Shibuya Station. Florescent lights flickered eerily in the station's entrance, illuminating dingy, unpolished tile floors and blank timetable screens. They watched anxiously for any sign of life, shadow or otherwise, but slowly relaxed as nothing seemed to approach.

The only movement came from the blinking lights on the screens of a row of dented, rusty ATMs--the only functional electronics in sight.

_I guess it makes sense that those work if he thinks of this as a "bank." He must not see Shibuya as a place for people to live. Just a resource to mine._

Morgana spoke, finally. "I _can_ still sense Mementos, but it's like it's through a....veil, or a heavy fog. I think we could break through if we really wanted to, but we don't seem to be in danger of anything creeping out."

Despite his words, the Thieves gave the station a wide berth as they headed for the alleys off of the central street. In the back of his mind, Akira still saw those eerie lights, flickering, flickering.....

"My fourth favorite crepe stand....." Ann sounded depressed, and even Akira felt a twinge of sadness at the state of the little shop. The joking employee was gone, and the usually adorably-decorated sidewalk sign was bare, seeming to have been kicked down the street to rest, crumpled, against a fire hydrant.

The thieves pressed their noses against the smudged glass, peering into the dim kitchen beyond. It had been stripped bare, oven and furnishings removed. By the look of the walls, someone may have even stolen the copper wiring from the place. Long-dead insects littered the inside of the checkout window, spindly legs poking upright like they'd signalled their surrender, but had been ignored.

_Just a couple of months ago, we were "team bonding" here. It feels wrong to see it like this. Even if I know it doesn't look this way in reality..._

"Do you think all of the businesses in Shibuya are in danger of dying out under Kaneshiro's control?" He removed his face from the window, then crinkled his nose, trying to blow dust from it.

Yusuke answered him solemnly. "I doubt he'd wish for the entire district to fail--surely his own business model would perish equally if that were that to happen. But, still, if Shibuya continues to gain a reputation for danger...small attractions like this certainly could flounder."

Ann grumbled as she, somewhat nonsensically, began to tug the sidewalk sign back into its proper place. "I hate this guy more already. Nobody messes with my crepes...." Akira raised an eyebrow at her actions, and she looked down at the sign in her hands, seeming confused at herself.

Still, she stood the sign upright. "It just...I feel better seeing something put right." She tried to wipe the dust from it, but just like Akira had experienced previously, it merely settled back into place. She grimaced. "Well, I tried, anyway."

As they crossed Central Street, Akira noticed more rows of singed, smoking ATMs. They drew closer, and he couldn't help but notice--were they speaking? Programmed to play noise of some sort? Regardless, that faint noise was the first sign of life they'd come across.

He held back the Thieves with one outstretched, red-gloved hand. "Just a second, guys. Hush. Listen."

Wide-eyed, they crept up to the nearest ATM, and its pitiful voice floated through the dead air to their ears.

<< _....sorry--I'm--I'mzzzzzzzsorry--I can't I can't I can't....._ >>

"Dude....." Ryuji's voice was uncharacteristically hushed. "Is that...."

_It's--!_

Akira stood in the middle of Central Street, turning in a slow circle. Taking in the ATMs scattered across the street, sparking, smoking, cracked, burning, crying, pleading, failing--everywhere-- _everywhere_.

<< _Sorry sorrysorryIzzzzI need more time I_ >>

<<  _not that I can't my parentszzzzz please I >>_

Draped across shattered stone steps, crumpled in the middle of the street, flat faces peering from disturbingly-familiar-but-wrong restaurant windows, lined up in alleys back to back to back to back--

<<  _no....no....zzzzsorry....zzzzzsorry...I'm destroyed...I.._ >>

<<  _Help.  Help.  Help.  Help._ >>

<<  _helpmehelpmezzzzzzhelpme_ >>

<<  _Helpppppppp_ >>

Horror in his voice, he realized, "Shibuya isn't empty. The people have been here all along."

Ann clapped a hand to her mouth. " _No...._ "

"Then, these are--" Yusuke reached a gloved hand out to touch the nearest ATM, only to flinch back as it began sparking wildly.

<< _\--no--NO--no--PLEASEzzzzz-don't--NOOOooOOO **OOO** \--_>>

Its voice raised abruptly to a sharp wail that filled their ears, rattled their teeth, made their hair stand on end with fright--!

<< ** _‐‐OoooooOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOOONOOOOOOOOOO-_** ->>

Gasping, the Thieves fled from its screams, down into a nearby alley. Huddled in the corner of a crumbling brick wall, Akira panted, his heart beating wildly.

_This is terrible. This is just....this is....._

He looked around himself.

_....this is....Untouchables?_

Akira hadn't recognized the alley when he'd rushed in, without Caroline looming down at him from her perch atop one of the ghostly portals to the Velvet Room. But yes. There was Iwai's shop. And compared to the rest of Shibuya, Untouchables looked...untouched?

_No....not quite._

Walking slowly up to the shop, he tripped over a tattered strip of yellow "CAUTION" tape that had been streaming across the alley in a weak attempt to block access to the storefront. The windows themselves were blacked out with strips of newspaper, and no light emitted from the few gaps. Still, this was the only place they'd found so far that wasn't covered in a thick layer of grime and dust.

Cautiously, he tested the door handle. The door began to open under pressure with an eerie creak. "Dude, should we really be tryin' to shop right now?" Akira held up a finger to hush Ryuji, flitting through the half-open door.

Inside, the shop seemed mostly intact, although the merchandise was noticeably nondescript. Instead of the grubby but versatile variety of Iwai's general stock, the shelves held rows of generic-looking beige boxes, black print reading simple labels like "Model Pistol," "Model Rifle," and "Fake Gun for Chumps." As he glanced around the darkened shop, more details were clearly off. Like the poster that just said "POSTER" in bold print, and the vending machine that, on further inspection, was simply a large aluminum rectangle with a vending machine decal pasted to the front.

_It's like a weird Doomsday Prepper Barbie Dreamhouse in here....oh god, Iwai would kill me if he heard me call his shop something like that._

As the other Thieves squeezed through the door, Akira peeled a strip of paper from the window and held a box up to examine it in the dim light. "Seems like Kaneshiro has an idea of what Iwai sells, but hasn't actually been in here to see. Or is....deliberately not thinking about the details?"

_I wonder if Iwai's former Yakuza connections gave him immunity of some sort to Kaneshiro's dealings? There aren't any of those ATMs in here. Does that mean Iwai at least isn't connected to this mafia financially?_

"Anyway...." He set the box back on the shelf, turning back to his nervous-looking team as they stood in the doorway, watching him. "This place seems unchanged enough for it to operate like a safe room of sorts. Let's get our bearings and decide what to do next."

"Yes please." Ann hoisted herself to sit on the shop's glass countertop, then brought out her whip, anxiously untangling it.

Ryuji shut the door behind them, then pressed his eye to a gap in the newspaper, staring through the gloom into the empty street they'd fled. "So whadda we do now? This place is strange as hell for a Palace."

Morgana shook a box he'd grabbed from the shelf, frowned at the distinct absence of a metallic jingle, and opened it. Tilting the box, a cascade of grey styrofoam packing peanuts fluttered to the ground. "I don't think this place is the Palace. Not yet anyway."

"Then where have we found ourselves?" Yusuke had retreated into the back room, and come rolling back out to the main floor on a spinning black office chair. "We followed the keywords, as is the usual procedure, yes?" He looked to Akira for confirmation, and he nodded grimly.

_We did. Did something go wrong?_

Morgana paced fretfully, eyes darting now and then to the gap they'd made in the newspapered windows. "This is definitely the Metaverse. And the Palace is _here_ , somewhere. I can sense that much. I'd say that this cognition of Shibuya is similar to how we were still able to access the alley outside of Shujin, and the curb near Madarame's shack."

"So we're just on the fringes of it?" Akira frowned. "Big fringe."

"Then what do we do?" Ann tugged at one of her twin tails, braiding it and then unbraiding it repeatedly. "Should we try to check the insides of actual banks? Maybe we are supposed to find the place he's laundering money?"

"Not a bad idea, Panther, but..." Morgana shook his head. "If it was that literal, I don't know that it would count as a distortion. Ughh, it should be more obvious." His voice broke with frustration. "Normally I have a better sense for this, and I know you are all counting on me. I'm sorry...."

Akira knelt on one knee to get down on his level. "It's okay, Mona. Maybe you just need to get closer. But until then...we should search for clues."

"Where? Place is like a graveyard," Ryuji scoffed, kicking a cardboard display. A cascade of unlabeled aluminum cans crashed to the floor, and the Thieves collectively winced. "Sorry, sorry, I--"

**_What's that?!?_ **

In a frantic whisper, Akira insisted, _"Hush. **Everyone** be completely silent. Get behind the counter as quietly as you can. There's something out there."_

Eyes wide, and quicker at listening than usual due to how the oppressive atmosphere had put them each on edge, the group obeyed him immediately. Only a slight scuffle of shoes on tile betrayed their movements.

Akira, rather than join his teammates behind the counter, melted into the shadows behind a magazine rack. In the heavy silence, he could hear the quickened breaths of each of his friends, and his own heart pounded in his ears.

A dark silhouette had cast its shadow on the edge of the paper-covered windows, and it seemed to freeze, _listening_.

_Is it a shadow? We haven't encountered any so far...and if Morgana is right about this not being the Palace proper....we've never found shadows in the outskirts._

Trying to control his breath, and mentally willing his friends to remain silent, he watched as the dark silhouette began to move. It was.... _human-shaped_ , at least, though jagged, and stalking in a manner which rang alarm bells in the deepest instinctive corners of his mind. Bells which screamed, **"PREDATOR!"**

It seemed to turn, and Akira relaxed slightly, hoping beyond hope that it was leaving. But, with alarming speed, it turned, pressing what had appeared to be its face against the gap they'd torn in the window covering. He restrained a gasp, as something black and shiny and alien pressed itself against the glass. A dull ((thud)) sounded as it made contact.

_Not human? But wait--_

The shiny skin of the creature backed away, and the silhouette raised its arms to its face, twisting, tearing, what was it--was it tearing its head off?!

_No....it was a helmet._

A streak of pale, skin-colored flesh flashed through the window, only a fragment visible between the faded newspaper headlines reading _"SHIBUYA UNDER MAFIA CONTROL." "TOKYO MENACE, AN UNTOUCHABLE FORCE SPREADS THROUGH THE CITY."_ The face was unrecognizable, but it was, undeniably, a _face_.

_Is this a cognition? Like the museum patrons, or the volleyball team? Something tells me....this pit in my stomach, this strange instinct....no. This thing has a will of its own._

_We should not be here._

_We should not be here with this person, whoever they are._

Panting shallowly, he watched in horror as one very bright, very _human_ wine-hued eye pressed itself against the bright slash in the newspaper, darting, back and forth, back and forth, wide and terrible and full of clear and present menace.

_Don't see us._

_Don't see us don't see us don't see us._

He didn't want to stop watching it, but Arsene's voice called from within him, warning him,

**_~ Do not allow your eyes to meet. Though you are shrouded in shadows, this one will sense your presence, and this is decidedly not a contact you should desire._ **

At his warning, Akira focused his eyes on the time-stained edges of the newspaper instead, keeping the roving orb in the periphery of his vision.

It seemed like an eternity before that red, unblinking eye retreated from the bright slash in Iwai's window, and sharp, vicious footsteps pounded away down the alley.

Akira waited at least five minutes in the foreboding silence before crawling behind the counter with his team. Ann was noticeably teary, Ryuji seemed to be _vibrating_ with unspent nervous energy, and Yusuke had frayed the edges of his hair, picking at it unceasingly. Morgana looked grim.

"Joker....that wasn't a shadow," the not-cat whispered.

"I know."

"Are we safe?" Ann asked, voice trembling slightly.

He shook his head. "We're never safe, but that...person, if it was a person, was especially unsafe. I'm not sure what to do."

"We should leave. We should get outta here." Ryuji sounded like he was trying to be strong and sure, but he couldn't hide how shaken he was.

"Can we?" Yusuke murmured. "I'd hate to run into that person on our way out."

Akira thought. "Maybe another vantage point? There are stairs to the apartments above through the back. Pretty sure Iwai lives up there. And all of these buildings have fire escapes."

Mentally building his plan, he placed his hands on Ann and Yusuke's shoulders, looking at each of the Thieves in turn. "We'll get up to the roof, _quietly_ , and try to scout out a path back to the station that avoids whoever that was. If the coast is clear, we'll head down the fire escape and book it. If it isn't, we'll lay low here and try again in a bit. Sound good?"

They all looked relieved to have a plan, though still frightened. "Yeah." "Okay, Joker." "It's as good a plan as any."

Silently, he guided his team through the back of Iwai's shop, up several flights of stairs, and through a heavy fire door to the roof that had been bolted from the inside. As they made their way through, each in a low crouch, Ann gasped.

"Panther?"

"Umm....Joker....." Her voice trembled, and he looked over to her, and saw her ashen face pointed toward the sky. "I think we've found the Palace."

"What?!" Akira turned his head to follow her vision, and his heart dropped into his stomach. How had they not seen this before?!

Looming like a cloud prepared to drown the world, a huge structure floated in the sky above Shibuya, light pouring from its windows, its silver facade reflecting the dead city below. There it was.

"The bank."

The thieves sat heavily on the concrete roof, just staring in awe at the flying fortress. Yusuke murmured to his right, "So he thinks he's beyond the grasp of all. The police, the common rabble...even his victims, once spent."

"How the hell are we supposed to get up there? Grappling hook?" Ryuji stared at the sky, seemingly trying to gauge the distance.

Morgana huffed. "There's no way. It's way too far."

"And if we fell....." Ann's voice hushed them all, as they recalled her previous brush with death.

Akira stared, squinting at the structure. There was something on the periphery of the building, but he couldn't quite make it out.

_A little help here?_

**_~ Indeed._ **

He focused, and his third eye opened itself to the hidden parts of this world. At first, he found nothing. But then--an odd glimmer, some mechanism near a set of metallic stairs.

"I think there's a staircase that can be released to allow people up."

"Like a bridge around a moat? Or is that dumb?" Ryuji scratched the side of his face uncertainly, but brightened as Akira nodded.

"No, I think you're right. But I don't think we can lower it from here. Like a castle bridge, it probably has to be released from the inside."

"So we've hit a wall...like that door in Madarame's Palace..." Ann sighed unhappily, leaning back on her hands to stare up at the odd, purple sky.

"Door? So was _that_ why?" Yusuke turned him with an odd look, and Akira realised that they'd never fully explained to him just why they'd needed to open the door in Madarame's home.

_Will he feel betrayed? I....oh no._

Akira gulped under Yusuke's curious stare.  Slowly, he admitted, "Yeah. In Madarame's Palace, there was a door that couldn't open until we opened the door to Madarame's secret storage room in reality. His cognition needed to be changed; he needed to see that it was possible for people to break into a place he'd previously thought to be untouchable."

"I see. That day makes more sense now..." Yusuke frowned, and Akira's heart wobbled guiltily in his chest.

"Are you....angry with me?"

His boyfriend's eyes widened. "Angry? Why would I....oh." His expression softened, and the worried tightness in Akira's heart lessened slightly. "Because you agreed to model for me under false pretenses? To be honest, not in the least."

Akira couldn't fully bring himself to believe him. "Why?"

Seriously, Yusuke spoke to the sky, leaning back. "How can I be, when I myself was not being honest in my own heart about my intentions for that art piece? I was prepared to hand it over to Madarame, and to make it palatable for him, despite truly desiring something entirely different. And, besides...."

He looked down to smile at him with genuine affection, and the last of Akira's fears on the subject were banished. "That act lead me to a truly beautiful place. In that regard, I would not change your actions for the world."

"I...I'm glad."

Together, the thieves watched the fortress float through the oddly-hued evening sky, silent. Morgana and Akira crept to the edge of the building, surveying the streets below for signs of the mysterious figure from before, but with no success. Even with the application of his "extra senses," the bearer of those wine-colored eyes had vanished.

Turning to his team, Akira declared, "I think we should get out of here while it seems safe and regroup in reality. We've found the Palace, but it seems likely that we'll have to make a change in the real world to actually access it."

Yusuke nodded, standing. "Agreed. There seems to be no sense in lingering in this place."

In single file, Akira helped the Thieves over the edge of the roof to drop onto a rusted but functional fire escape a floor below. The mood somber, they avoided the mournful and sobbing ATMs as best they could, making their way back to Station Square and, finally, reality.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I essentially imagined the voices of the screaming ATMs in the distressed robot/machine lifeform voices from NieR: Automata. So enjoy that thought. :p


	39. The Uncertainty of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter outside of Leblanc leads Akira back to Shinjuku, and to Chihaya's alleyway stall.
> 
> Feeling iffy about this chapter, and may edit it more down the line. Ehhh 😖

Yusuke and Akira walked together to Leblanc that evening, holding hands in the dusk. Morgana had leapt from his bag as they exited Yongen Station, citing a desperate need for fresh air. Akira felt frayed.

_How do we solve a problem this huge?_

_How do we convince the leader of a mafia who seems to specifically prey on **our** demographic that he's "accessible"?_

Yusuke seemed to notice his frustration, and quietly squeezed his hand. Akira tried to banish the worries for now.

They passed Yongen-jaya's regular evening police officer, and he nodded to them in a sharp but not unfriendly way. Slightly flabbergasted, Akira gave the man a small, nervous wave.

_When did **that** happen? Have I become such a normal part of this neighborhood already?_

_....huh._

He wasn't sure how that made him feel. Akira knew on a logical level that some of what he'd been taught about the police, and outside authority figures in general, growing up wasn't entirely accurate. But he couldn't entirely banish the instinctive alert of _"danger! danger!"_ in the back of his mind.

 _And,_ he rationalized to himself, _it's not like I don't have reason. After what happened to send me here...._

**_[[ .....damn brat..... ]]_ **

**_[[ .....the police are my bitches! ]]_ **

He leaned into Yusuke, trying to remain focused on the present. "Hey...what do you want to do tonight?"

Yusuke glanced down at him, blinking in surprise. "Do?" He shrugged, then, looking ahead to Leblanc. "To be completely honest, I haven't allowed myself to look much further ahead than to my hopes for our evening meal. I'm entirely exhausted." There was a certain heaviness around his eyes at his words that Akira was entirely sympathetic to.

To him, Leblanc, nestled in its hidden alley, looked like safety and respite. Lights shone through the cafe's small windows, beckoning them home through the dusk, and brightening the leaves of the neighboring houses' potted plants and small ornamental bushes, which fluttered in a welcome evening breeze. Nothing was dead here. Nothing had been destroyed in some bizarre cognitive apocalypse.

_Home..._

"Want me to cook something for you? It won't be as good as what Boss makes, but I want to practice." Slowly, bit by bit, Akira was giving parts of his heart to this little neighborhood. It didn't feel safe to do so. Not really. But he was allowing it all the same. He stood on his toes to give Yusuke a peck on the cheek.

Yusuke's face brightened. "Oh! Perhaps a soup? I quite like-- ** _ahhh_**!" The smile on his face was startled away by a sudden whirring sound and a bright flash. Akira instinctively tugged Yusuke behind him as a stranger, bearing a camera, emerged from the narrow gap between Leblanc and a neighbouring building.

Akira felt a sharp curl of anger in his chest at having their haven intruded upon like this as the stranger smirked, strolling up to the boys. As he did so, Akira noted a press badge hanging from the man's lanyard. He scowled.

_Isn't that the same publication that woman Ohya works for? Did she have something to do with this?!_

The reporter opened his arms, continuing to approach. His voice both enthusiastic and cajoling, he smiled sharkily at the boys. "Greeeeeat. That was a great photo. I think I'll title it, 'the Tragic Pupil, Hiding in Obscurity.' Good hook, right?"

Behind Akira, Yusuke huffed unhappily. _"These menaces...I'd hoped to no longer encounter them outside of Madarame's home..."_

The man continued, removing what appeared to be a small silver portable voice recorder from his pocket. "Now that that's out of the way, how about an exclusive interview?" He peered past Akira, trying to address Yusuke directly. "Your news cycle has died down a little, but with a spin like this, I could absolutely revive it. How about this--"From Tin Shack to Love Shack!"

The reporter clearly thought that was extremely clever.

Akira felt sick.

_We've been boyfriends for not even half a day, and I'm already causing problems for him. Just like I was afraid of._

**_Damn it!_ **

The man waved a 10,000 yen note in their faces, bulldozing his way forward. "Come onnnn, don't be so shy. I'm sure you need to support yourself, Kitagawa-kun and....friend...so let's help each other!"

Akira glowered. "Fine," he growled, snatching the bill from the man's hand. The reporter grinned smugly, and Yusuke blurted in alarm, "Akira, please, you don't have to traffic with miscreants like this! I promise you, I'm used to--"

Akira shook his head. "Here's your interview: **Fuck off.** " He then swung open the door of Leblanc and dragged an astonished-looking Yusuke through the door, leaving the reporter to work through his shock, alone, on the front step.

Once inside, he was _fuming_. "The fucking nerve. How dare he."

Yusuke seemed shaken, despite his insistence that he was somewhat used to paparazzi. "I'm astounded that I was found here. I wonder if I've been followed from school. Usually they are not quite so...bold."

"Boys? What's got you so worked up? And Akira, _language_ , I have customers." Sakura leaned over the counter, staring at the pair with a look of genuine concern. An elderly couple peered at the boys from their booth near the stairs curiously.

Akira flailed an arm toward the door angrily. "Some _assho_ \--er...." Sakura frowned at the half-curse, and he cringed, forcing himself to swallow down some of his fury. "There's some jerk reporter out there on the front step that was taking sneaky pictures of us--mostly Yusuke I think--from the alley."

Slowly, his anger fizzled into a familiar shakiness.

_More pictures of me out there....and if this one makes it to the news.._

He adjusted his glasses reflexively. 

Sakura's scowl darkened as he peered through the window. His eyes narrowed as they fixed on the man, who seemed to be cycling through the photos on his camera's digital screen. " _That_ guy. Damn it. He was asking around here yesterday. I didn't tell him anything, but clearly he didn't get the hint." He grabbed a broom from the rear of the kitchen, and Akira couldn't help but smile in apprehensive amazement.

_\---?!?_

"Boss? What are you.....?"

Sakura shrugged. "I've got this. You boys head upstairs."

Akira stared at his guardian, befuddled. He looked at the broom gripped in his hands. He looked back at his face. "Boss. Are you....um....sure?"

The cafe owner raised an eyebrow, the gestured toward the stairs to the attic with the broom. "Don't make me tell you twice."

Yusuke trailed behind Akira as the pair headed upstairs. Akira rushed to open the window, watching the scene below unfold. He could _just_ see the edge of the reporter's jacket if he leaned from the window. Out of sight, Sakura's deep voice grumbled, "Sir, would you like to explain what you are doing loitering on my property?"

"Loitering? This is a public space, right? And that shitty kid just snatched 10,000 yen from me and ran off! I've got a right to get my money's worth."

Akira couldn't help but feel satisfied by the note he held crumpled in his shaking fist.

_Serves that asshole right. But I hope Boss doesn't take it the wrong way...if he thinks I'm stealing from potential customers or something....shit._

He listened in more intently.

"Well, that 'shitty kid' has more right to be on this property than you do. I don't take kindly to people harassing my wards. Leave, or I'll make you leave."

" ** _What?_** Now wait just a minute! I'll have you know that--" The reporter came fully into view as the man backed away, hands held out. Akira could see the tip of a broom handle waving just past the edge of the building.

**"I said what I said. Leave."**

The reporter grumbled something under his breath that Akira couldn't quite catch, then stalked away down the alley. He sat down heavily on his bed, slightly in shock.

 _"More right to be on this property than you do....Does he really believe that?"_ He hadn't quite realized he'd murmured that aloud until Yusuke replied.

"It seems so. Sakura-san has become rather protective, hasn't he?" The artist settled onto Akira's desk chair, legs splayed around the chair's creaking back, arms draped loosely over the wood. To Akira, he still looked exhausted, but not necessarily unhappy. "I'm relieved to know that man has been banned from the premises. Although I suppose that won't stop him from finding me elsewhere, should he wish to persist."

"Speaking of that...Ohya has some explaining to do." Akira frowned darkly, withdrawing his phone to send off a series of rapid-fire texts. "I saw his press badge. He works for the same publication. If she had something to do with this...."

      **Akira** : so is THIS how your newspaper works? Stalking teenagers for clicks online?

      **Akira** : after I met with you, did you seriously tip someone off to Kitagawa's living situation so they could stalk him home?

      **Akira** : if you did, it's fucked up.

      **Akira** : the deal we made for info had NOTHING to do with him.

He scowled at his phone, squeezing it mercilessly as he waited for a telltale vibration. Yusuke watched as well from his perch near the desk, and asked curiously, "What is this 'deal' you are referencing?"

Akira flopped back on his bed, staring up at the attic's cobwebbed ceiling. "She got it in her head that I was some sort of Phantom Thief fanboy. I didn't argue with her. It's close enough for plausible deniability if I ever seem to be too... _well educated_ about what we've been doing."

He glanced at his phone. Still no reply.

"Anyway. She agreed to give me information she's acquired from anonymous sources, even if it is unpublished, as long as I agree to also be one of those anonymous sources. Ohya wanted an insider from Shujin, and boy did she find one. I was going to get her in contact with Mishima as well, since he seems so set on being our....media coordinator."

He barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Akira knew he should try to be more tolerant of their _actual_ "Phanboy," but he couldn't entirely rid himself of the sour taste Mishima's first impression had left him with.

_I've got to work on that. It's not like he's going anywhere.  And he's...enthusiastic, I'll give him that._

Akira sighed, rolling onto his side. "But if she's involved with this, there's no way I'm letting her become aware of anyone else near us. No amount of insider information is worth putting someone in danger of harassment."

Yusuke nodded, leaning back in the desk chair. "That makes sense.  Although I assure you, I don't feel that I'm in any real danger. That man was an irritation, to be sure, but I've dealt with worse."

Akira shook his head, murmuring into his ruffled blankets. "You shouldn't have to though. We got you out of there. I want it to be over for you."

His home buzzed, and he checked it with a quick flick of his thumb.

      **Ohya** : What? What in the world are you talking about?

      **Ohya** : I have no idea where your friend lives. Why would I send someone out to stalk a teenager?

      **Akira** : I don't know. But it's too much of a coincidence for me. The dude had a press badge from YOUR newspaper. One day after I met with you.

      **Ohya** : "The dude"....? From my newspaper?

      **Ohya** : ...shit. what did he look like?

      **Akira** : Average, boring dude? Smarmy asshole. A little taller than me, yellow polo shirt, short brown hair, kind of sweaty? He mentioned calling his article, and I quote, "From Tin Shack to Love Shack."

      **Ohya** : .......

      **Ohya** : **(( • • • ))**

"What is she saying?" The chair creaked as Yusuke leaned forward, and Akira was genuinely concerned that it might snap under even Yusuke's delicate weight.

"Not much so far. She's denying that she sent him, though."

      **Ohya** : Well, shit. I might know who this guy is, but I don't want to rag on my coworkers in print.

_Well **she's** useless..._

Akira scowled, prepared to tell her as much, when another text came through.

      **Ohya** : I don't want to lose your trust as a source though. Listen. I know I said that I was busy all week, but that miiiight have been a white lie. I can make some time for you tonight if you want to talk about it.

      **Akira** : ....let me guess. Crossroads again?

      **Ohya** : You catch on quick. I'll be there in an hour. Believe me, I'm not any more impressed about this than you are.

_Somehow I doubt that..._

Akira turned to Yusuke apologetically. "I might have to take a rain check on dinner. Here, take this, and order whatever you want, okay?"

He handed Yusuke the 10,000 yen note, wishing secretly that he could stay to share the meal with him.  "You're the one who really earned this, after all."  He laughed a little, trying to appear cheerful.  If it worked, he couldn't really tell.  "She'll tell me about the guy, but surprise surprise, only in person." 

He groaned despite himself. "I did not want to head out again today."

"Then don't. Surely you need rest just as much as I do." Yusuke's face fell, and Akira conflicted feelings deepened. Still....

Akira shook his head, leaning over to retie his shoelaces. "I need to put an end to this. Both to stop you from being harassed, and because we can't have reporters hanging around outside where we meet as the Thieves."

Yusuke's eyes widened in alarm. "I hadn't considered....I apologize for drawing such attention to our base of operations."

_Crap.  I didn't mean--_

"That's not...."  Akira leaned over to squeeze his boyfriend's knee.  "It's not your fault.  And it's fine.  I'm happy to do this."

Yusuke seemed to accept it, if begrudgingly.   Placing one hand over Akira's, he asked quietly, "Shall I go with you? Shinjuku was rather...alarming last time."

Part of Akira wanted to tell him "Yes."  But then he remembered the way Yusuke had squeezed his arms to his chest in the Shinjuku alleys, looking like he wanted to disappear.

_No. Not when he's exhausted from the Metaverse on top of all of this.  I can do this._

He smiled his most convincing smile. "Nah, I've got it. Now that I know my way to Crossroads, it should be a quick trip. You rest, and wait here to tell Morgana what's going on when he gets back."

Yusuke looked unsure, but conceded. "Very well. But please be careful."

"As careful as ever, I promise."

"Somehow....that is not as comforting as I believe you intended it to be."

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Akira sat at the bar, stirring his glass of ice water as he considered whether to believe what Ohya had insisted was true: She said she hadn't spoken to anyone at her publication about him or his friends, and that she was going to raise hell at work the next day to ensure that Yusuke was left alone.

_She seemed earnest enough....but she was also trashed. Will she even remember her promises in the morning?_

_And it's hard to believe someone ranting about how harassing traumatized teens is unacceptable when you met that person lurking outside that same guy's house.... **and** when she keeps trying to convince the bartender to buy you actual alcohol._

_This entire trip felt pointless. At least I got the guy's name. If he escalates, we can make a Mementos trip. Well, I got that, and another **job.** I get the feeling Lala wants to keep me._

Despite his poor mood, he smiled down at his phone, texting Yusuke to report on Crossroads happenings.

      **Akira** : Lala-chan said to tell you that her costumer friend is free on Saturday. Seems like she's pretty set on getting you two to meet.

      **Yusuke** : Is that so?

_His replies have been pretty short.  I hope he isn't too angry at me for having to leave tonight...but I think he understands.  This is for his sake, anyway.  Hopefully he'll still be awake when I get back.  It isn't **that** late, but it has been long, weird, rollercoaster of a day._

      **Akira** : I quote, "Those boys give me such a similar vibe, I just know they'll get along. And say hello to that blonde sweetheart for me too, okay?"

      **Yusuke** : I see. In that case I'll give this...Tatsumi-san a text. I do have a project in mind that I could use mentorship for, if I'm being honest.

      **Akira** : I hope they're helpful! Let me know if you meet up/want me to meet them with you.

      **Yusuke** : It's a promise.

_I still can't read his tone.  Better bite the bullet._

With an anxious wince, he asked,

      **Akira** **:** Hey...Yusuke, will you wait up for me?

The reply was immediate, and calmed his worried heart. 

      **Yusuke** **:** Of course.  I had planned on it. Or at least hoped that you still wished to spend more time together this evening, as you said earlier?

      **Akira** :  Absolutely.  I feel bad, because I'm pretty beat.  But if you're okay with just quietly spending some time together...?

      **Yusuke** :  That is all I truly have the energy for as well.  Even my paints have deserted me with this level of exhaustion.  But I have an art film, if you are interested...?

He smiled at his phone in relief.  Yusuke was really, truly perfect. 

_Too good for me, that's for sure._

      **Akira** :  That sounds utterly perfect.  I'll text you when I'm on the train home.

Closing out that screen, he opened a separate chat to relay Lala's message before he could forget. 

      **Akira** : lala-chan says to "say hello to that blonde sweetheart for me." i can only assume that's you, haha.

      **Ryuji** : oh uhhhh thanks, you can tell her I said hi back! She seemed pretty chill.

"Ryuji says 'Hi,' Lala-chan!"

"Oh, excellent." She sounded genuinely pleased. "You know, this place may be a bar, but it is all-ages for a reason. You kids ever need a safe place to just be...you, don't hesitate, okay sweetheart?"

"Thanks Lala. For that, and for the job. It'll be good to see you around." A little surprised at himself, he genuinely meant that. Despite its dingy location, Crossroads felt like an oasis for weird that needed a place to rest. Maybe it was _because_ of its location.

_It's hard to really let yourself kick your feet up and relax somewhere pristine and sterile._

_Here, it's hard to be afraid of scuffing the furniture, and the same goes for the people--Lala's like a den mother, exuding some aura of bemused, enforced peace. Ohya's really the rowdiest patron I've seen here. It's like everyone has some sort of silent understanding. "We each need a place_ _to go. Let's refuse to ruin this for each other."_

      **Akira** : i think you'd have to be chill to have this ohya lady as a regular.

      **Ryuji** : wait, you're back at crossroads? I would have come with you

      **Akira** : can't wait to see your new bartender bff? ;)

      **Ryuji** : man, Lala's fine, but I hate bars -__- I'd go if u needed me though

      **Akira** : it's fine. I know my way around shinjuku a little better after the other day & honestly crossroads is growing on me

      **Ryuji** : ok man, if your sure. But don't tell me your becoming a bar hopper?!

      **Akira** : okay, I won't tell you. :p

      **Ryuji** : ??????

      **Akira** : kidding! im kidding

      **Ryuji** : you'd better be, dude.

Akira sighed, pulling himself up from his barstool and waving goodbye to Lala. She, and a particularly inebriated woman who appeared to mistakenly think the wave was directed at her, returned the wave merrily.

_I guess I won't be telling Ryuji about my new job then. But..._

For the first time, he second-guessed holding back.

_Is that wrong? I guess I wouldn't lie outright if he asked me, "Akira, you working at that bar?" But even so, it's definitely a lie of omission. I don't know..._

Shinjuku in the evening was as loud and boisterous as ever, glittering in a strangely oily, neon way. Like the feathers of some brightly plumed nocturnal bird, preening beautifully from its perch atop a trash heap.

His second time around, he noticed a little more of the beauty in the sheer _variety_ of the mass of people stumbling through the glowing streets, but that didn't cover up the smell of vomit wafting from a nearby alley.

_Speaking of glittering..._

That fortune-teller was at her booth, holding some tiny pink stone that flashed beneath the garish streetlights. He could just make out the tail end of what appeared to be a sales pitch, directed toward a too-thin, anxious looking young woman.

"......thousand yen is absolutely worth it, to ensure the redirection of such a grave fate."

_Redirecting fate? She sounds like a scammer._

Akira had wanted to speak with her, hoping to find out more about the couple he'd crossed paths with during his last visit to the red light district. But this....huh.

He strolled up to the booth, stopping to stand against the wall behind her. "What kind of stone is that?"

The fortune-teller visibly jumped, nearly dropping the rock in her hand. Turning in alarm, she stuttered, "Who--what--when did you get there? I--um--"

Akira couldn't help a small smirk.

_Looks like my stealth isn't entirely wasted in reality._

With a few breaths, the blonde seemed to regain her composure. "So sorry, I'm afraid you startled me. You're the boy from two days ago, aren't you? Did you come back for a reading?"

He shrugged. "To be honest, no. I was just in the neighborhood when your....stone caught my eye."

At that, she smiled beatifically. "Then you have a good eye! Perhaps it was fate that brought you back here, and you too are in need of my Holy Stone!"

"Holy stone....?" Akira infused the words with every ounce of the skepticism that he felt. While he knew better than anyone that there were things in this world that were strange beyond comprehension and yet true, the tiny, rose-colored rock in her palm did not strike him as one of them.

Her frazzled looking young patron glared up at him with surprising vehemence. "Don't talk down to Chihaya-san when you have no idea what she does! Her holy stones have miraculous powers! It's..." She frowned then, staring down into her lap. "It's my own fault for losing the last one I bought. But if a replacement will help to change him--"

Chihaya reached over to grip her hand, a kindly look on her face. Gently, she insisted with absolute confidence, "It will. Your fate may be dire now, but this Holy Stone will protect you."

_Change him? Protect her?_

The girl's exhausted countenance took on a more ominous overtone with the added context. He did not want to see this girl get swindled. Stooping into a crouch to get on her level, he stared into her eyes with as much intensity as he could muster.

_Some rock won't protect her from anyone unless she chucks it at his head. But it's just possible that **we** could._

"Protect you from what? What's his name?"

Her dull brown eyes widened. " ** _His?_** How did you know? I....why should I tell you?"

Akira cocked his head at her, wondering how best to explain. Behind him, Chihaya muttered about intruding on client privacy, the power of her Stone, and the absolute certainty of fate. Finally, he said, slowly but surely, "There's power in a name, too. And there is more than one way to change fate."

"Power...in a name...? Then, maybe..." It appeared that appealing to the girl's superstitious nature had been the correct choice. Quietly, nearly too quietly to catch, she murmured, "Yuya Uchimura. But....but please. Don't curse him or anything. It isn't his fault that the demon within him forces him to do such terrible things."

_Demon? Just what has this fortune-teller been saying to this girl? Then again, I suppose a shadow is a sort of "inner demon."_

"Don't worry. I don't hurt people. I can't promise that your life will be magically fixed. Your choices matter, you know? But I'll see what I can do about this....demon."

The girl stood up, so quickly that Akira backed up out of his crouch instinctively. "Th....thank you! Goodbye!" Without a backward glance, she flitted down the alley and was quickly swallowed by the night.

Beside him, Chiyaha scowled. "You've doomed that poor girl. Who are you to mislead people with claims about 'changing fate?'" Her expression growing more pensive, she began replacing the cards in her tarot deck and continued, "Fate is absolute. This holy stone was her only chance....poor girl."

_All right. I've had about enough of this._

He plopped heavily into the metal folding chair in front of her, leaning his elbows on the card table. "Well then, convince me. What's my fate?"

Her brow furrowed. "Very well then, I will! And you'll have to promise then not to interfere with any more of my patrons."

Akira's cheek twitched. " ** _If_** you convince me."

She shuffled her deck of tarot cards, her violet eyes narrowed in concentration. "Have you had a tarot reading before, young man?"

"Akira. And...not precisely, but I'm familiar with the Major Arcana, at least."

_A little too familiar...._

"Then you know that the tale of the Major Arcana is that of the Fool, stumbling through life's trials and wonders, on his path to enlightenment and The World?"

"Not in those words exactly, but yes."

_"The World".....I wonder if that is what Igor meant by "rehabilitation"? Is that the process for finding the end of the journey?_

"Very good. Now...." She set her deck down, cut it, and laid out a spread of three cards. "I'll do a simple spread, since this one is on the house."

"Thank you. That's kind of you."

She seemed surprised at his thanks, and nodded in acceptance of them. "You are welcome, Akira-kun. Now, this first card represents your past..." She turned it over, revealing the Nine of Swords. As she did so, he felt a strange change in the quality of the air. Something chilling, and eerie. It was as though his senses had been suddenly sharpened, narrowed to focus on the tiny space in the world that they occupied together. Everything else faded into the evening.

_Am I getting more than I bargained for? I've only felt this feeling in...where was it?_

_...that's right. In the Velvet Room. But there's no way this **scammer** is--_

He shook himself slightly out of his daze. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one."

"You...." As Chihaya began, his eyes flashed up to her. Her voice had taken on a strangely hypnotic tone, and he understood in an instant how she could gain such fervent believers for clientele. "In your recent past, you've found the border between your nightmares and your waking hours distressingly blurred. You've closed your eyes to it, insisting that dreams are just that--dreams. But for you, they are not."

He shivered. That....wasn't wrong. It was too close to home.

_Who is this girl? I...I didn't sign up for **this** tonight._

Curiously, she stared at him, her face devoid of both judgement and sympathy. An empty slate. "What do you dream of, I wonder? 'Someone like you....'"

She turned over another card, just as Akira strongly considered asking her to stop. "The Four of Cups. Exhaustion from merriment. The revelry goes on, but you...you are sick of it. You've made connections, met new companions, and at first, that filled your cup of happiness, beating back the voice that beckons to you from the empty part of your heart."

Chihaya fingered the edge of the card meditatively. "But as someone who hasn't sufficiently reinforced that same heart, you lack the strength to hold the brimming vessel properly. It spills, and fragments are lost.  You are left confused.  You feel as though you _should_ be happy, while battling with an inner sense of 'this is not where I belong.'  'Someone like me should not be allowed here.'"

"And, lastly..." Her fingertips brushed the edge of the last card, and an increasingly agitated Akira knew in an instant that he did _not_ want her interpretation of what lay on the other side.

She began to flip it and the exact moment that he blurted, "Stop! I...I'm good. I don't need to know my future." But it was too late. The Devil loomed before him.

_This is...._

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Akira swallowed heavily. He hadn't wanted to see it. But now that he had, his mind was running wild. Unlike the minor arcana she'd drawn before, he _knew_ this one. Knew it intimately. In the back of his mind, he heard the strange, cold voice that had called to him in his dreams.

Mouth dry, he breathed out, "Go on, then...."

"When you don't allow the strength of those you hold close into the inner reaches of your heart, it becomes easy for vice and ruin to run rampant. The Devil is not some terrible, separate entity, stalking the living and coercing them into doing his will."

She stared him down, her eyes glittering in the gloom. "The Devil is within us all. What vice will you unleash, if you allow that part of your heart free reign?" She closed her eyes, and to his horror murmured the words from his dreams. " ** _Will you...drink my tonic?_** That's...."

Chiyaha shook herself, seeming disturbed. With that emergence of emotion, the spell over the table seemed to break. The busy sounds of Shinjuku's club scene roared back into his ears with a suddenness that left Akira dizzy.

_That's right. It's the noise that's making me feel this way. Just the noise._

His head drooped, and he felt a hand on his own. The fortune-teller looked at him with concern. "So, do you see now? Why I do what I do?"

He hated to admit it, but...

Akira nodded unhappily, twisting his hands together. "I believe that you have _some_ kind of power."

"But you're still skeptical. That's a shame. The Holy Stone...I truly believe that the power imbued within it could help to stave off a great tragedy. With such a heavy weight on your young heart...won't you give it a try?"

He sighed. Despite what power he may have felt from her, he still very decidedly felt _nothing_ from this rock. "And for what cost?"

"It is only 100,000 yen! Truly worth it, when you consider what fate will bring without the help of its purifying aura."

_100,000 yen?! Even if I had that much laying around, which I don't, I would never spend that much on a rock. And that girl was going to buy **another** one? What's it made of? Gold? Meteorites? ........drugs?!_

He'd find just about anything plausible at this point. "Just what kind of stone is it?" He wasn't going to buy it, but was still interested in uncovering just how much of a scam she was running.

"I'm afraid that is a proprietary secret. But I assure you, the magical intent imbued within--"

_Yeah....that won't fly._

"If I'm going to spend 100,000 yen on a rock, I'd like to know what kind of rock it is. Let me see it."

_Not that I actually **have** 100,000 yen on me right now, but she doesn't need to know that..._

She looked contemplative. "I...normally I'd decline, but as your fate is particularly perilous...perhaps once you experience its aura for yourself, you will be convinced. Open your hand." He held out his hand, and she deposited the tiny gem in the center of his palm.

He rolled it around his cupped hand contemplatively.

_Any magic vibes? .....would I know if there was?_

_........Arsene?_

**_~ I'm a gentleman thief, not a wizard. I'm afraid I'll be of no assistance here._ **

_You know, your words say "I'm sorry," but your tone says "this is hilarious."_

Arsene did not respond, but Akira could feel the amused shrug in the back of his mind.

_Whatever._

_Now what was it that I'd read? One of the easiest tests in geology?_

_...that's right._

He held his palm up to his face, eyeing the stone. And, then...

He licked it. Chihaya looked horrified.

"A....Akira-kun!? Why would you--"

_Eeeugh. I don't know what I expected, but at least I know what it is now. Definitely not magic._

Akira scrunched his face in disgust. "It's salt."

"What? No, surely it isn't--"

"You don't even know what you're selling? It's salt. Here, _you_ lick it." He held it out, palm outstretched.

Nervously, looking like a skittish pet rabbit, Chihaya leaned forward and licked the rock in his hand with one tiny dart of her tongue.

_**WAIT-** -well too late now, but I'd expected her to **take it from me** , not lick something from the palm of my hand._

"It's...." She frowned comically, swallowing several times.

"Yes?" He raised an eyebrow.

Her face fell. "It's salt."

"Like I said."

"But how can that be??"

Akira shrugged, tipping his hand to let the twice-licked pebble of rock salt roll across the card table. "You tell me."

"But...but--" Chihaya looked genuinely tragic, but he had a feeling she'd need some time to sort this revelation out on her own. Somehow, he believed that this _had_ actually been a shock to her.

_Is the scammer being scammed?  I guess I'll check back in with her after we make that trip to Mementos._

He stood, then pushed the folding chair back in politely. "Thanks for the reading, miss. I'll be seeing you."

"Akira-kun,  _wait!_ "

Akira ignored her call, heading back to the station. It wasn't until he arrived there that he remembered with chagrin that he'd forgotten to follow up on the entire reason he'd met with Chihaya again.

_Maybe I'm just not meant to meet with those two._

He scoffed at himself.

_Look at me now.  Has she got me believing in fate?_

The humor melted from his face as the too-knowing leer of the Devil arcana flashed through his mind.

_No. **That** I won't believe.  I said no to that....power.  and that's that.  I'm the one who decides my fortune from now on._

 

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

Me, this chapter:

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, a lot was packed into this chapter. Hopefully it wasn't too convoluted. The next one shouuuld see them encountering Kaneshiro.


	40. Glasses.  Off.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter. Big oof. So sorry for this one, guys. But I promise you, our boys will come through by the end.
> 
> The moral of today's story is: It is not a good idea to storm directly into the headquarters of a mob boss who's made his fortune blackmailing and exploiting teenagers.
> 
> So, it's been in the tags, but to be clear, I'm gonna add a huge CW here for sexual assault. It isn't explicit, because I don't really fly that way, and exactly what happens is left deliberately ambiguous now, but it's there. It's not a good day.
> 
> If anybody's been faithfully following along and wants/needs to skip reading this one, absolutely drop a comment below this chapter and I'd be happy to write out the cliff notes for you.

The rest of the week flew by in a blur of avoidance. The Thieves spent their days in Mementos, and Akira spent his nights torn between various part time jobs, rationalizing to himself that they desperately needed to upgrade their equipment.

In reality, none of them wanted to confront the wasteland that was Kaneshiro's cognitive Shibuya, and they'd been frustratingly unable to piece together a plan to make the man, and his Palace, accessible.

Still, Nijima's artificial deadline loomed mercilessly in the back of Akira's mind as he steadfastly avoided the student council room Friday afternoon. The girl had not-so-stealthily trailed them for the last two days, her expression growing more bitterly frustrated with each half-encounter.

_She's not going to drop this. But what the hell are we supposed to do?_

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he stepped from Shujin's doors into the searing heat, grateful that they'd finally switched to their summer uniforms.

      **Yusuke** : I'm nearly to Shibuya Station. Where should I meet you?

      **Ann** : We'll be in that accessway just past the gates. School just got out, so wait for us, okay?

      **Ryuji** : so we're really going in again, huh? man, I guess we have to, but I don't wanna. Shit's creepy.

      **Ann** : I agree, but what else are we supposed to do? Hopefully something has changed...

They'd decided to make one careful trip into Kaneshiro's cognition this afternoon, hoping against hope that something had changed on its own.

_It's unlikely, but perhaps his "bank" has business hours, and we were just outside of them before? But if this doesn't work..._

As he stepped onto the train, Akira caught a flash of plaid skirt from the corner of his eye. Not unusual, but....

"Morgana, is that her again?"

His bag rustled as Morgana peered from the open zipper, serving as eyes in the back of Akira's head. "Yup. Nijima's following us."

Akira wanted to ignore her, as he had all week, but he resigned himself to the fact that this confrontation was inevitable, and decided that it was probably better to have it out now. Carefully avoiding bumping into the other passengers, he approached her.

Nijima's eyes narrowed as he closed in. "Oh, so now you want to talk to me."

Glibly, he answered, "Well, who _wouldn't_ want to talk to their stalker?"

"Stalker?!" She stuffed the book she'd been holding into her bookbag with a huff. "I'm nothing of the sort."

"Well then, what would _you_ call following us around for the last two days? Sight-seeing?"

She frowned, tugging at her bag. "So you noticed me."

Akira rolled his eyes. "Yeah. All I had to do was look for the girl hiding her face behind a book. Not the most subtle of disguises, I have to say."

To his surprise, she smiled smugly. "Well, it can't have been that bad. You say I've been following you for two days, but in actuality I've trailed you since Monday."

**_Monday?!_ **

His features smoothed, looking carefully unimpressed. "That isn't helping your 'I'm not a stalker' case, you know."

Nijima leaned against a pole, swaying slightly with the rhythm of the train car. She closed her eyes. "Well, what was I supposed to do? After I saw...."

"Saw?"

She beckoned him closer with one hand, and against his better judgment he leaned forward, allowing the girl to whisper in his ear. _"I saw you disappear in the middle of Shibuya. I thought I was losing my mind at first. But then it happened **again, and again."**_

"Shit."

 _"Oh, crap."_ Morgana yelped from inside the bag. At his voice, Nijima's eyes snapped open.

"Was that....why _are_ you carrying a cat in your bag, anyway?"

Eyes darting anxiously around the crowded train, Akira stepped back slightly and hushed her. "Not here. But fine. I'll let the, uh, cat out of the bag, so to speak."

_"I resent that!"_

He ignored Morgana, continuing, "Follow me when I get off the train. You're good at that much, right?"

_She saw us. She must have watched us go into Mementos too. Shit. And any of those times, she could have been dragged into the Metaverse, and we would have been none the wiser. We've been oblivious idiots._

Despite his strong dislike for their blackmailer, Akira couldn't help the pit of guilt and anxiety that wound its way through his gut. He was angry with Nijima, but he didn't want her eaten by shadows. She had no idea the danger she'd been in while tailing them.

Tugging out his phone, he messaged their group chat.

      **Akira** : change of plans guys. Still meeting up, but Nijima is with me

      **Ryuji** : for real?! Why?!

      **Akira** : she's been following us for longer than we realized, and apparently watched us enter the Metaverse at least three times. we owe her an explanation, if only to keep her from being dragged in and put in danger

      **Ryuji** : shit

      **Ann** : Shit! Yeah, that was not fun for me.

      **Yusuke** : That....does not bode well.

      **Yusuke** : Also.....shit.

      **Ann** : He said it! :O

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

_Ryuji glowered at the girl who walked beside Akira without an ounce of shame._

_(( Goddamn it. If she wants us to work, she should just let us get to it and keep her nose out of things! ))_

_He watched Akira carefully. His friend **seemed** okay, but with his hair in his eyes like that, it was hard to tell. Ryuji's eyes trailed down to Akira's hands. Stuffed in his pockets._

_(( I know this guy's tells well enough by now to know that **that** isn't a good sign. ))_

_He stomped over to his student council president, glaring. She glared right back. "Whaddaya think you're **doing** , Nijima...senpai?"_

_He hasn't intended to add the honorific, but those red eyes were **just** intimidating enough that it squeaked out of him at the end._

_"What I'm **doing** is my job. Verifying your justice."_

_From her perch against the rail, Ann grumbled, "Your job for who, exactly? Principal Kobayakawa? Is it worth it to do his dirty work?"_

_Nijima shook her head. "That's...not exactly correct. I admit that my involvement began that way, but now..." Her eyes darted down to rest on Akira's shoes, and Ryuji frowned. "Now I'm doing this for myself. I need to know....to understand..."_

_"You want to make sense of what you saw. Is that it?" Akira's voice was as astonishing level as ever. It never failed to surprise Ryuji how he could keep himself calm like that, even in dire situations._

_(( The dude has the worst anxiety, but it's like only the weirdest stuff brings it on. Stuff that just involves him? But whenever shit's bad, and it's one of the rest of us that's in danger, he puts on this steel mask and plows right through it. ))_

_Somehow, Ryuji didn't like the fact that that mask was now being deployed to handle the danger Nijima was in from trailing them._

_(( Tch. She doesn't deserve it. ))_

_Ann seemed to feel similarly. Her twin tails swayed as she hopped down from the metal railing to stand beside him. "And why **should** she understand? How has she earned that?"_

_"Earned it? I don't have to prove myself to you!"_

_"On the contrary, on some level you need to do just that." Yusuke spoke, leaning against a pillar. His voice was icy, and Ryuji couldn't help but feel gratified that his friends were all on the same page. "You may be unaware of the mechanism behind it, but on some level you must surely understand that you've forced a quite dangerous task upon us."_

_Joining in, Ryuji muttered, "Yeah, one that we can't **get to** if we're stuck standing around babysitting **you**."_

_Akira's low voice tried to soothe. "Guys, I know how you feel, but we need to handle th--" but Nijima interrupted, apparently reaching a breaking point of frustration._

_" **Babysitting?** How dare you. I'm just as capable of this as--"_

_"--everyone, stop, I brought her here to--"_

_Angrily, Ann cut in, drowning out whatever Akira was trying to say. "Capable? Tell me **this** , miss student council president: How exactly are you going to help us gain access to a **mob boss** , when you're so useless that you couldn't do anything but turn a blind eye at school?"_

_Yusuke joined Akira in his alarm at the brewing arguement, and Ryuji felt a curl of guilt at the disappointed twist of Akira's lips. "We **must** quiet down, or we'll draw attention to ourselves!"_

_Unhappily, Ryuji backed up, tugging at Ann's arm. "Ann, he's right, we've gotta--"_

_"Useless...?" Nijima hissed under her breath. She clenched a fist, mirroring the motion that he'd seen from Akira a dozen times already, although she gave off the impression of embarrassed frustration rather than fear. Slowly, her fists tightened, and she raised her eyes to glare at them, radiating conviction._

_Her professional, student-council-president-face resurfacing, she ground out with forced calm, "So. You just need access, and **then** you can do something? Fine then."_

_The Thieves watched in collective dismay as she turned on her heel and ran from the station. From Akira's bag, Morgana groaned, "Great job, guys. Tick off the girl who wants to reveal our identities. That's just fine."_

_Yusuke pushed himself from the pillar, joining them in the middle of the hall. "Should we pursue her?"_

_Akira shook his head, frowning at them. "I don't know. This is a mess."_

_Ann rocked back on her heels, looking slightly ashamed. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted me to back off, but she gets me so **pissed off** that I--"_

_"Yeah, me too." Ryuji nodded, then stared off into the station at Nijima's quickly receding back. "But this is about more than us, right?"_

_"Right." Akira nodded, and Ryuji felt relieved. They'd let him down a little, but they could fix this. "Let's follow her and try again."_

_"We'd best hurry, then. She's already out of sight."_

_Together, they rushed from Shibuya station, then stared into the burst of afternoon sunlight, searching for a running girl. From the corner of his eye, Ryuji noticed Akira fiddling with his glasses, squinting more heavily than anyone else._

_(( I know he says those are fake, but....sometimes I wonder if he needs real ones. ))_

_Still, he caught the flash of a fluttering skirt across the street, just as Ann pointed and shouted, "There! She's heading down Central Street!"_

_Ignoring the twinge in his leg, Ryuji pounded concrete, leading the race to catch up with her._

_(( Dammit, why's she gotta make this so freaking hard? Just slow down a minute! ))_

_A crowd of tourists crossed the street in front of them, and in the jumble of cameras and oversized backpacks, they lost sight of her again. Panting from his sprint, Ryuji spat out, "Shit...where...in the hell...is she now?"_

_Akira shook his head, messy black hair fluttering out of his eyes finally. The hint of panic he saw there put Ryuji even more on edge._

_(( This isn't **that** bad right? Is it that bad?! ))_

_"Everyone, pick an alley and check down it. If you see her, shout."_

_"Right." "Got it."_

_Ann, Akira, and Morgana crossed the street, while Ryuji and Yusuke darted down their current side of the road._

_(( In the Big Bang Burger? ....nothing. ))_

_He squinted ahead._

_(( Is that her over by the movie theater ahead? ))_

_(( ...no, that's some other girl in a Shujin uniform. ))_

_Ahead of him, Yusuke suddenly shouted, his voice frantic, "Nijima-san, wait!" and bolted down the alley leading to the gym._

_Ryuji yelled across the street, ignoring the muttering of the shopping district's residents and the eyes of a suspicious looking cop, "Akira! Ann! Down here!" He watched just long enough to see them dart across the street before heading after Yusuke at the highest speed he could muster._

_(( Why's he sound like that? What the hell is going on?! ))_

_Yusuke panted at the mouth of the alley, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. As Ann and Akira joined them, he gasped, "She got into a car with two men. Akira, you know the ones. This is the license number."_

_Akira's eyes widened with clear realization as he took the scrap of paper and started into the street. "Taxi! Taxi!" He waved his arms, but was passed by repeatedly._

_"I've got this, man. **TAXI, DAMMIT!"** Before he could really think about what he was doing, Ryuji flung himself into the street, directly in front of a speeding cab._

_**"RYUJI!"** He didn't quite realize how badly he might have fucked up until he heard Akira's voice break, and the shriek of the car's breaks. Reflexively, he braced himself for impact, and--_

_(( th **UD** ))_

_(( **thump** thump ))_

_"Oof! Sh...shit."_

_"RYUJI! You idiot!"_

_"Damn kid, what the hell?!" The taxi driver craned his head from his window to where Ryuji sat on the ground, clutching his knee. It had just been a tap, really, but it still hurt like hell._

_(( If it feels this bad right off the bat, it's not gonna be great when the adrenaline wears off. But.. ))_

_"I'm fine. We don't got time for this. Get in!" He accepted a hand up from a pale-looking Ann, and the group clambered into the car._

_His voice tight, Akira handed the scrap of paper to the driver. "We need to catch up to this car. I'm sorry, but this is an emergency."_

_Yusuke pointed down the block. "They went that way, and I can see that the light is red. We have a good chance of catching up to them."_

_The driver groaned, sounding both frazzled and angry. Still, the car began to move in the right direction, though not quickly enough for Ryuji's comfort. "What, you kids see a cute girl and now you're tryin' to catch up?" In the man's rear view mirror, Ryuji saw him glower at him. "I'm not gonna get sued, am I?"_

_"No, dude, I'm the dumbass who walked into traffic. Just **go, okay?"**_

_"Whatever."_

_They trailed after the white sedan, all of them still panting from exertion and pure nerves. As he'd worried, the adrenaline slowly poured out of him, and the ache in his knee grew sharp enough that it brought tears to the corners of his eyes. He tried to stretch it, and the joint resisted, creaking._

_(( Shit. It's swelling up pretty bad. Ma's gonna kill me for screwing it up more. And if I can't fight.... ))_

_(( Goddamn it, Nijima, this better be worth it. ))_

_As Akira and Yusuke leaned over the passenger seat, directing their too-apathetic driver, Ann nudged him. Face pale, she asked him lowly, "Seriously Ryuji. I saw where it hit you. Are you okay?"_

_He couldn't lie. Not if they might wind up in a situation where the others could be counting on him to fight. "I dunno Ann. I thought I was, but it's swelling up pretty bad."_

_"Can I help? Is there anything....?"_

_Ryuji started to shake his head, but then he remembered the salve he still had stashed in a pocket of his bookbag. He hadn't tried it yet. "Not sure, but Akira got me this stuff from that doctor lady." He tried to unzip the bag, but his hands were shaky from a combination of pain and the adrenaline crash. "Sorry, can you--"_

_Quietly, she nodded, taking it from his hands. "Yeah, I've got it Ryuji. In here?"_

_"Nuh uh. See that inner pocket? Yeah, that white tub thing."_

_Leaning over, he struggled to quickly roll up his too-tight jeans, then winced at the mess. A sickly purple bruise had already spread in a crescent-moon around his kneecap. He reached over to take the salve from Ann, but she insisted, "I've got it. Just hold still."_

_The sharp smell of menthol filled the cab, and the driver grumped, rolling the window down, "What the hell are you kids doing back there, vaping? Hell, I'd better get a damn good tip, that's all I'm saying."_

_Eyes darting back to look at them, and then widening at the damage, Akira dug for his wallet, then handed over a crumpled handful of bills. "Of course. Here, please just ignore us."_

_"Huh? Well damn kid. You'd have paid me this much up front and I wouldn't have given you so much shit. Pretty short trip though. You're just about back where you started, you realize that?"_

_"The hell?" Ryuji peered from the window, then winced as Ann's nails grazed his bruise while she kneaded the salve into his knee. He was right. They'd essentially gone in a huge square, landing them a few streets behind Central Street, albeit in the opposite direction._

_Yusuke murmured, "Was this all to obscure their destination? To think they were so close..."_

_Their cab slowed. A mistake. The white sedan sped forward suddenly, running through a yellow light just before it changed to red. It turned a corner, and the thieves collectively cursed._

_Capping the salve, then wiping her hands on her leggings, Ann kept her eyes on the light. "Come on. Change. Change."_

_Ryuji knelt to roll his jeans back down, only to have his head smack into the back of the driver's seat when the taxi took off again. "Ahh shit!" Sitting back up, he tested his knee, trying once more to unbend it. He didn't expect much, and it still stung like shit, but..._

_(( I can move it better at least. It'll have to do. ))_

_Their taxi turned the corner, then sped down the street. Suddenly, Akira shouted, "Here! Stop!" and it skidded to a stop, sending the teens flying._

_They poured out of the vehicle, and Ryuji accepted a hand from Ann._

_"--Shit!" He wobbled, but caught himself._

_Akira turned abruptly. "Ryuji, can you walk?" His dark hair was pasted to his forehead, his glasses askew. Ryuji tested his leg quickly, wincing._

_"Yeah, yeah, it's fine, where is she?"_

_Eyes narrowing as though he didn't quite believe him, Akira pointed to the rear end of the sedan, parked down an alley beside what appeared to be a well-hidden private club. From its front windows, women with heavy makeup and smoking, suit-clad men laughed uproariously, perched on glitzy furniture that gave clear meaning to the term "Nouveau Riche."_

_Footsteps thudding down the alley, Akira stared into the rear window of the vehicle. "It's empty." Morgana leapt from his bag then, looking considerably worse for wear. Ryuji had genuinely forgotten he was there, and wondered if he'd sat on him at some point during the bumpy ride._

_Small feet darted along the length of the building, and the not-cat called out, "There's a side entrance!" Ryuji hobbled stubbornly after him, testing the handle._

_" 'S locked. Shit."_

_"I can handle it. You guys block the view from the front of the building." Akira dug in his bag and withdrew a small canvas satchel, bringing out one of his handmade lockpick sets._

_"Crap. This is so illegal..." Ann fretted, even as she joined Ryuji and Yusuke in forming a human screen while he worked. A tinny (( snap )), and a fragment of the pick clattered to the ground, broken._

_"Shit..." Akira stuffed the broken pieces into his pocket and tried again. Ryuji's heart pounded in his chest._

_(( Come on, Akira. Come on. We can't get caught doing this. You get arrested again, and it's game over. Come on. Come **on**. ))_

_( click )_

_"Done. Let's go."_

_One by one, they slipped through the door and into a dingy looking utility hallway. Florescent lights flickered over cracked tile, and Ryuji couldn't help drawing a parallel mentally between this place and the creepy, dead Shibuya in Kaneshiro's heart._

_(( Place looks fancy as hell on the surface, but when you dig into its guts...just as dirty as anywhere else. ))_

_Trying to muffle their footsteps, they crept down the hall. Ahead of them, Akira suddenly stopped, holding a finger to his lips. They listened, and the sound of laughter drifted from around the corner. Not good laughter. Mean, vicious chuckles._

_"...idiot kid. But from your phone contacts, good stock, huh? Who'd have thought the assistant prosecutor's kid sister would waltz in here, lookin' for a job."_

_(( Assistant prosecutor? What?! ))_

_The next voice nearly stopped his heart. It was clearly Nijima, but she sounded like she was....in pain. "I didn't....I didn't want a job. I'm sorry, I'm clearly in the wrong place, just let me up, and I'll go--"_

_Ann gasped audibly, then shoved a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Yusuke was panting, looking sickly in the off-color light. And Akira...._

_Akira was terrifying. Ryuji nearly backed away at the combination of horror and rage pouring off his his friend, intensified as more smug words crept along the dark hallway. "Now, I can't have that yet. I haven't gotten my pictures, have I?"_

_"Pictures....? No." Akira's face twisted, his fists clenched so rigidly that Ryuji knew he must be drawing blood with his nails. Then, before he could stop him, he bolted down the hall._

_"Akira, wait up, man!" Yusuke and Morgana sped after them, while Ann seemed to force herself to slow down and help Ryuji follow. "Damn it. I'm a goddamn liability. Ann, just go."_

_Her voice shaking, she refused. "No. Nobody gets left alone in this shithole. Come on."_

_Ahead of them, he heard a scuffle, and the sound of breaking glass. Yusuke's pained yelp. His heart leapt into his throat, and he pushed Ann off, forcing himself to ignore the injury and just **run**. Close at his heels, Ann shrieked at what she saw when they burst into the hidden lounge._

_Makoto Nijima was pinned to the ground by the knee of a much larger man, clear terror on her face. She looked disheveled and pale, but not clearly injured at least. Movement, to his right--another man--a guard? wrapped his meaty fist around Ryuji's arm and dragged him into the smoky room._

_Ryuji flailed, trying to fight him, until another, grossly smug voice said calmly, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Or if you like your friends."_

_"My friends? What are you--shit, no, guys!" Ryuji wanted to vomit. Ann gasped. Akira and Yusuke were pushed against a wall. The shiny muzzle of a handgun was pressed into Yusuke's limp hair. Akira's eyes were wide and wild, darting back and forth. To Ryuji. To the gun. To Nijima, teary, on the floor. To the man who was speaking._

_Morgana was nowhere to be seen. Wait--a flash of blue from the schoolbags crumpled at their feet. Was that him?_

_"And you. Shit heads!" A portly man, thin blonde hair pasted back against his sweaty head, barked from his position lounging on a low couch, directed at more subordinates. "You let yourself get **followed**. Damn that pisses me off." He pinched the side of a barely-dressed woman seated beside him, then asked, "What would you do with 3 million yen?"_

_The woman smirked, revealing glittering white teeth. "3 million yen? Oh, I could do all sorts of things. There's a handbag I've had my eye on, though...."_

_"Done." The man snapped open an attache case on the table before him, revealing the contents--stacks upon stacks of bills. Ryuji and Ann were steadily dragged toward Akira and Yusuke. The gun never left Yusuke's temple. Ryuji could see the artist's knees trembling, and Akira's hand fluttering blindly at his waist, trying to find a hand to grasp._

_"Oooh, thank you!" The woman squealed, clutching the money to her ample chest. Heels clattering, she flitted out of the room and down the hallway._

_"There. **Almost** better." The odious man smirked over at them. "Nothing like spending a little money to burn off stress. Especially when it's someone else's money. **Hers** to be exact." He gestured to Nijima, who had begun to struggle again on the ground._

_She stared up at them, eyes wild. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I...I wanted to help find him, but I...."_

_(( So this is Kaneshiro!? I knew he'd be bad, but...! ))_

_Ryuji struggled to continue standing, but was afraid to sit. To show **any** weakness, really. He felt sweat bead on his forehead as his knee buckled. But he knew any fear **he** felt, it couldn't compare to--_

_His eyes darted to his right again. Gun, nestled in blue hair. Yusuke, standing rigid, standing so perfectly, heartstoppingly still--_

_Kaneshiro (because who else could it be? It had to be him) rose, smirking down at the girl on the floor. With one foot, he lifted the hem of her skirt, laughing as she struggled._

_"No need to be sorry. You were looking for a part time job, right? Such a shame that you'll have to work off this loan before you get paid. But it'll be easy work. Pretty girl like you..."_

_Ryuji felt bile rise in his throat. Beside him, Ann shouted, "Stop i--" only to have the words die in her throat when Yusuke's head rocked to the side, the pistol pressed roughly into it._

_Voice tight, Akira murmured, " **Don't**. I'm sorry. I'm sorry guys. Don't."_

_Kaneshiro strolled across the cigarette-burned carpet, leering at his guests. "This guy's got the right idea. Looks like **somebody** \--" He turned up his nose at the rest of them. "--knows his place!"_

_Hands in his pockets, he circled the teens like a particularly corpulent shark. "Your little friend here isn't in any danger...So let's everybody just stay calm, huh? We're just gonna have a quick little photoshoot, and then everybody can go home. Easy peasy. I just want a little insurance to make sure that my...investment....will show up to work if she can't pay off her debt."_

_"Photoshoot? I...please, you don't need collateral! I'll...I'll find a way to pay you!" Nijima seemed too afraid to cry, her face ground into the dirty carpet._

_Kaneshiro shrugged, strolling through the gloom as his flunkies chuckled. "Not how I operate, kid. But don't worry...Maybe big sis will pony up the cash tonight, and little sis will just have a story to keep to herself." His eyes crinkled in sick anticipation. "Doubt it though."_

_A flicker of movement. Akira had leaned forward, so slowly, so carefully, it had seemed to evade notice of the guards. Just enough for his face to fall into a sliver of pink light._

_(( Does he have a plan? Of course he does, Akira will get us out of this. We'll get out of here, we'll get Nijima-senpai home, we'll heal up, and we'll take this asshole down. ))_

_Ryuji waited, holding his breath. Any second. Any second Akira was going to whip out some crazy power, or unleash some kind of plot. Maybe he'd planned something with Morgana?! His eyes darted down to the bag, but he saw no movement. If anything, he thought he heard a low, sad whimpering._

_(( Maybe not Morgana. But something-- ))_

_Akira opened his mouth, staring directly at Kaneshiro. "No pictures. You...you can't take her."_

_Ryuji's heart dropped into his stomach. He was just talking? Akira was a smooth talker sometimes sure, but this wasn't a shadow holdup._

_Kaneshiro frowned, but even more unsettling, as he stared Akira down, that frown melted into a horrifying grin. "What, are you volunteering to "negotiate" in her stead? Hah. You know you are kind of a pretty-boy, aren't you?" Kaneshiro advanced, leering...and that leer slowly turned into a look of dawning suspicion._

_"Akira...? Akira, what's...." Akira shook his head, ignoring Ann. He released Yusuke's hand with a squeeze, and at the nod of the gun-wielding guard, took a step forward._

_"Pretty-boy. Do I know you?"_

_Akira froze. Ryuji's legs buckled, and Ann quickly tucked an arm under his shoulder, dragging him back up._

_His face graying, Akira stammered, "Wha--what?! No, you don't--"_

_Eyes narrowing, he eyed Akira from head to toe, ending with a long stare at his face. The creep looked more certain now._

_(( Certain of what? **What the hell is going on?** ))_

_"You know this kid, boss?" asked the man who had his knee pressed into Nijima's back._

_Kaneshiro smirked, and Ryuji panted from fear. He could feel Ann's heartbeat thudding through his shoulder, could see the sweat trickling along Yusuke's jawline. Could see Akira's trembling arms. "I do! I **know** that face!  Kid. Take your glasses off."_

_Akira's face whitened in terror. "No, no, I...please...." His voice was weak, without a trace of the confidence he'd grown over the last several months._

_(( What the fuck does he mean, 'I know you'?! And what the hell does he want with my best friend?! ))_

_Kaneshiro nodded at a bodyguard, and the first guard grabbed Yusuke's elbow, dragging him forward. Yusuke stumbled, his lanky legs buckling. The gun flashed under the lounge's sickly pink lights. Nijima whimpered on the ground. Yusuke closed his eyes, holding his arms rigidly to his sides._

_(( This is fucked up. This is fucked. That gun, he means it. Yusuke, is he...What--no--we--we're getting out of this, right? We're getting out of this alive?! How the hell did it come to this?! ))_

_Kaneshiro smirked. "I **SAID** take the glasses off."_

_Hands trembling, biting his lip so hard that a trickle of blood welled up, dripping down to the corner of his mouth, Akira removed his glasses. He stepped to the side to place them in one of Yusuke's shaking hands. Yusuke's eyes shot open. "Akira, don't--this man--"_

_"What choice do I have?" Akira cut him off quietly._

_Meanwhile, Kaneshiro's look of suspicion had transformed into certain recognition. "Fuck! Yes, now I know where I've seen your face. You're Okashi's little protege, aren't you? Ha!" A sharp, barking laugh, like a seal, burst from his lips. "That's rich!"_

_Akira's grey eyes filled with tears as they darted to the ashen faces of each of his teammates, then back to the menacing mob leader. He nodded._

_Ryuji couldn't help himself. Voice terrified, he yelled, "Akira. Akira, dammit, man, what is he talkin' about?!" Nijima's bodyguard rose in a flash, crossed the room, and pinned Ryuji to the wall, his hairy forearm crushed into his throat. Ryuji let out a harsh, gasping cough._

_(( shit. I can't....I can't breathe, I-- ))_

_"Ryuji!" Ann sobbed, as the man slowly released him._

_"Shut the fuck up kid. Kaneshiro's **talkin** ' to ya."_

_Frantically, Akira insisted, "Ryuji, just....just do what he says, okay?"_

_His eyes welling up with pained tears, Ryuji wanted to respond, to reassure his friends somehow, to do anything. But all that would come out was a wretched, tight cough._

_Kaneshiro laughed. "Oh, that's just friggin adorable. You kids are all 'power of friendship' and shit, is that right? Well..." He gripped Akira by the chin, turning his face back to him. "Why don't you tell your little friends all about your time with Okashi. I bet they'd find that fascinating."_

_Akira clenched his fists, shoulders shaking visibly. He looked away._

_"No? Makes sense. That'd wreck your standing with your little pals, wouldn't it? But that's fine. A little leverage never goes wrong in a business negotiation, does it? Now come on. You don't want Makoto here to owe me? I can work with that, when I've got somebody here who'll suit me even better."_

_Yusuke's lips parted, his dark eyes fixed on Akira from the corner of his eye, still not daring to turn his head. "Akira...I don't know what is happening. But please, don't...."_

_Seriously...too seriously, Akira murmured, his face shadowed by his hair as he lowered his chin. "I won't let any of you get hurt."  He took a single step forward._

_Kaneshiro sneered. "Are you trying to tell yourself that this is all for the greater good? Well, whatever works for you." He pressed a hand into Akira's back, and Ryuji wanted to fight, to run, to bolt, to scream, anything. **Anything**._

_But he could only freeze._

_Ann whimpered, her voice shuddering past Ryuji's ear. "But what about you?..... Akira...?!"_

_(( What the fuck is happening?! Why is this... ))_

_Akira looked back over his shoulder at his friends, "It's....it's going to be okay, guys. I promise. I'll get you out of here okay. We're just going to talk."  Somehow, he smiled a small, crooked smile._

_But the look in his eyes...._

_He looked dead._

_Ann shouted, "Akira, don't go!" only to yelp as a man grabbed a fistful of her hair and **twisted**._

_"No, man--unffff--" Ryuji's croaked words were cut off by a rough back handing to the side of his face._

_Yusuke just stared in horror, the dull gleam of a pistol visible through layers of hair, mouth covered by one thin, trembling hand that still held a pair of black-framed glasses. Slowly, the guard dragged him back toward Ann and Ryuji, pulling the gun away from his head, but still keeping it trained on the group as a whole._

_But Akira couldn't see any of this. Akira faced away from them now, following Kaneshiro and one armed guard through what had appeared to be a metal fire door. A bright rectangle of light flooded the dim room, like a nocturnal alien abduction. Through it, they could now see a low wooden table, a pair of sofas. It was a bare-looking, dingy room, in stark contrast to the plush lounge they were all forced to kneel in._

_Yusuke's voice trembled in a mixture of fear and anger. "Akira....." His eyes darted over, looking to each of them helplessly. "How is this happening?!" Ryuji's eyes filled with tears as he finally slid down the wall to the floor, still watching Akira's back recede. He had nothing he could tell Yusuke. No smart quip, no words that could make this better._

_Yusuke glowered darkly down at Nijima, then spat bitterly. "You! Why did you have to--!" Unable to finish, his lips curled in a sneer._

_Ann shook her head, as much as she could with a man's hand tangled in her hair. He released it, and her head smacked the wall with a dull thud. Sounding stunned, she murmured, "You can't blame her. She couldn't have--"_

_On the ground, Nijima sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I--"_

_"Ahh!" Everyone's eyes snapped up to the open door at Akira's startled cry. He flew to the ground after a shove from one bodyguard, where his head smacked against the table with a sick ((THUD))._

_Kaneshiro smirked, and the door slammed shut._

_Ryuji started forward, barely stopping himself as the gun was still in sight. "What the fuck?! He's not fighting! Why would you--"_

_Yusuke's sneer dissolved into blind panic. "Akira!!" He fell to his knees beside Ryuji, clutching Akira's glasses with white knuckles._

_A hushed silence fell over the thieves, broken only by Makoto's occasional sniffling, as they all strained to hear what was going on behind that closed door. Smoke hung heavy in the air, burning Ryuji's aching throat and making his tear-reddened eyes sting._

_Ryuji could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. Breath heavy, he tried to hold it, to hear--to hear what?_

_(( I thought they were negotiating, or...or worst case scenario, taking....taking pictures...but... ))_

_He felt vomit rise in his throat again at the thought. Beside him on the floor, a thin whimper sounded, and he remembered Morgana. He threaded a hand though the gap in the bag, feeling fur._

_Ryuji could just barely hear whispered, pitiful self recriminations. (("I'm useless. A useless, weakling cat. I can't do anything in this body. Why am I here?")) He wanted to comfort him, but how could he, when he felt the same way?_

_Murmuring through the door. The shadows of feet breaking the line of light in the gap beneath it. A heavy thud. A muffled cry, cut off. A laugh, more thudding._

_(( Akira?! ))_

_Then, too much silence._

_Too quiet, too long, too horrible._

_As the silence stretched out, Ryuji began to tremble, arms gripping his knees, leaning into the pain of his bruise as some terrible method of grounding. Without the guard's knee in her back, Nijima slowly crawled toward them on her hands and knees, then collapsed, her head in Ann's lap. Ann threaded her fingers through the girl's hair, eyes rimmed red, sniffling. Any enmity felt petty now. Yusuke knelt, staring ashenly at Akiras glasses, held limply in his hands._

_(( Please be okay. He has to be. He's our leader, he's... ))_

_More silence._

_Broken, suddenly, by the creak of metal as a door was flung open, and Akira was shoved from the room, his knees buckling. His face, tearstained, raw, and red. His lips split and swollen._

_Behind him, Kaneshiro chortled, zipping the fly of his pants._

_With sudden, horrible realization, Ryuji vomited in his mouth. He gripped his own leg, fingers digging into flesh painfully, blood rushing in his ears. Around him, every thief gasped or cried out._

_(( No. No he didn't. No. No no no goddamn it! ))_

_"Heh, I think those pictures will work even better to keep them in line. And you know better than anyone why those can't get out, don't you, 'Aki'?"_

_"Akira!" Ann sobbed, tears and snot running into her mouth._

_"No...you fucking **bastards**!"_

_Akira just....stood there. He didn't look at them. He didn't do anything. Strangely, he wasn't even shaking. He stood perfectly still, like a terrible, haunted doll._

_Unphased, Kaneshiro chuckled, leering. "Now, you have one week to scrape up that cash. A whole week! I'm feeling magnanimous. Better thank him."_

_To his left, Yusuke's lips parted. Faintly, he breathed, "A week?....What....What are you saying?....what have you..."_

_"Oh, so that not enough?" Kaneshiro grabbed a handful of Akira's hair, dragging the boy's blank face down to his level. Akira's glassy grey eyes blinked, as he seemed to come slightly out of his daze.  "Looks like your friends here don't think you worked hard enough."_

_Panic welling up within him, Ryujj shouted, "NO! You sick son of a bitch, that's not--"_

_Kaneshiro sighed as if he was considering something that was a huge imposition, but from the calculated glee in his eye, it was planned._

_From his pocket, he withdrew a small switchblade. The tiny slash of silver glinted in the dim room like a snake, its fangs bared. Before anyone could move, he slammed it into Akira's right side with a grunt, releasing the blade with a click, and a wet ((snick)) that was too small of a sound. Too small._

_"There. Now he's earned **two** weeks."_

_You'd expect someone who was just stabbed to scream, or wail. To flail, to cry out. But Akira only let out a croaked whimper as the blade was withdrawn, stained red._

_The Thieves shrieked in unison. Their combined cries of "NO!!" tore through Ryuji's head as his best friend crumpled, clutching his side, blood blossoming. He barely recognized one of those hoarse screams as his own._

_Kaneshiro smiled in satisfaction. "Better?"_

_Akira fell to the filthy floor._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will swap back to Akira's perspective for what follows as they leave. 😢
> 
> As a side note, I'll be leaving exactly what happened in that room open to interpretation to the reader. Kaneshiro could have left it at taking a very terrible picture, or it could have been...whatever you imagined. Your headcanon is correct.


	41. Lies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sad chapter. Akira gets patched up--physically, if not mentally. Struggling with ideas of "home," and the horror of two worlds colliding, he falls into a restless sleep.

_Was I....born...to be consumed?_

Akira closed his eyes, allowing the pain of the knife wound to drown out his thoughts. It was better than....

It was preferable.

Through the roar of his own thudding heart, he could hear his friend's frantic cries, but they felt distant. Like something from a dream. Something he wanted to be a dream. Part of him knew that he needed to get up. To focus, to leave, to get them somewhere safe.

_The whole point of this....was....._

He felt a rough hand grip a handful of his no-longer-white polo shirt, and his eyes opened reflexively, just a crack. Through the narrow view of his nightmare, he saw a flash of silver and blood, and....

_Oh._

_He's just cleaning the knife on my shirt._

_...._

_I see._

He closed his eyes again, sinking into the pain. His body felt strange and airy and apart from him. Not his.

_Is this shock?_

_Shock is....kind of....okay._

Words floated through the air, a familiar cruel voice, and suddenly a bolt of fear shot through his chest, washing his daze away with cold adrenaline. He could feel it now--his shaking core, the blood on his lips, how every inch of his face felt raw and terrible. Strangely, he'd have thought the stab wound would be the strongest feeling, but the entire area felt oddly out of focus, like the glimmer of something seen from far, far away.

Kaneshiro's voice continued, and despite wanting to will it away, with the loss of that fog, he could hear....

"--no hospitals, or I'll ensure he gets....special treatment. Remember, I own this city."

A tug under his arms, air beneath his chest. A rough shove, the blur of pink lights and scraps of suede furniture and tearstained faces as he spun through the air, falling into a tangle of his friend's limbs.

Someone's hand grazed his cheek, and he wanted to cry, but instead, someone with his voice whispered, "I'm not...."

_Not what?_

_I don't know._

"Now get him out of here before you owe me for ruining a carpet too, and **don't come back** unless you have my money....or you're ready to get to work."

"Ah....ah.....ah...."

Okay, now he was focusing. Now he was focusing, and it was like all of the air had been sucked from his chest. Arms curled under his shoulders, and someone dragged him up. He flinched, fighting it, and someone gasped as the back of his head made contact with their nose.

 _Her_ nose. Blonde hair draped in limp curls over his shoulders, and a shaky voice in his ear whispered, "It's...it's okay. Akira breathe, we're leaving okay? We're leaving."

_Am I not breathing? Am I breathing too much? I..._

He forced himself to allow Ann to pull him to his feet, and now, _now_ Akira felt the wound in his side, felt a terrible dampness, and a sharp, blinding ache. The sudden sensation forced a quick, deep inhalation of air, and how is this worse?  How is this worse than shadows, than burning, than drowning, than--

_So I wasn't breathing....okay....breathing._

"Let me...let me help you, please, I--"

_Yusuke. Oh, I....._

His head spun, and Ann staggered with him.

"Please do, please--Nijima-senpai, we _have_ to go, get _up, **now.**_ _Ryuji_ , make her get up and help you get our bags, we can't leave--"

Every step agitated the burning horror in his side, sending pulses of grey static through his vision.

Blink. No static.

Blink. Grey.

Blink. Flickering lights. The hall. Yusuke's arm taking over for Ann on his right side. He was cold. It helped ground him. He didn't want to be grounded.

_What will they....will they know now?_

_Will he know who I am?_

_Will he...._

Water dripping down Yusuke's face. What was it?

Blink. Grey.

Blink. A bright, terrible blur, the sound of birds, the late afternoon too normal, through a veil of tears.

Blink. The tears fell down, and Ryuji, his rough hand gripped around a girl's wrist.

_So we got her out. All of them out. That's...._

"Shit. Shit shit shit, Akira, can I....can you talk? What do we--"

He swallowed, and his throat felt raw. He opened his lips. "S...sorry, I...."

A blur of blue and white, something crushed into his chest. Yusuke. He smelled like sweat, and, strangely, oranges. Thin arms wrapped around him, and Akira fought the urge to back away. He'd already hurt Ann. He....

"Please don't apologize. Please...." Yusuke's voice broke, and so did something sad and sharp in Akira's chest. He cried, then, into Yusuke's shirt, and every sob wrenched more pain from the wound in his side.

In the background, a thin sob. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't....I didn't think that....I just didn't think."

"You fucking _should_ be sorry. What were you thinkin', runnin' off into shit like that?! This is **your** \--"

"Shhhhhh." He breathed the hush into Yusuke's shoulder, and somehow, Ryuji heeded it. "Not...here."

"What do we do?"

"We need to get him to a hospital!"

"But he said--"

" **Fuck** what that bastard said! If he--"

"But if it'll just put him in more danger, then--"

Yusuke's voice rumbled directly into Akira's chest. " **Stop. Arguing.** Stop. Stop it. The longer you argue, the longer before he....before he gets help."

Ann sounded helpless. "I wish this was the Metaverse. I could just.....wait, Mona, would that work?"

A small, sad voice. "M...maybe. I don't know. We've never tried to heal wounds from the outside."

"Man, that's not going to work, I'm telling you, we need to take him to a--"

"I'm **_doing it,_** Ryuji! Just--"

"Ann! Wait--" Yusuke gripped him more tightly, squeezing tears from his eyes, as a familiar wash of purple drowned his senses.

The taste of dust and dry, choking heat made it clear where where they'd landed, even as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Yus--Fox, lay him down here, and I'll....wait, why is he....nevermind, just....Mona, you too, okay?"

"Of...of course."

_Why is he....what?_

Yusuke lowered him to the cracked and filthy sidewalk with a murmured apology, and Akira reached out to touch him, to drag himself back to the comfort of his chest. His own pale hands looked unnatural in cognitive Shibuya's bruised light, and he felt like there was something else wrong with that, something he should notice, but--

**_"Zorro, Dia!" "Carmen, Dia!"_ **

Green light washed over him....without relief.

The creak of vinyl. Ann knelt on the concrete beside him. "Did it work? Akir.....um, Joker, did it--"

Pressing his lips together tightly, he shook his head, face stinging from trails of salty tears.

"Shit."

 **"Zorro, Dia!"** Another wash of green. He squeezed his eyes shut, greying from the pain. Tiny voice cracking, Morgana called again. **"D.....diarama! Dia! _DIA!_** " Wave after wave of green light pulsed behind his eyelids, to no avail. "D....dia. Zorro, Dia...." No more light. Morgana had exhausted himself.

"S....sorry, I...you tried, it's okay."

**"It's _not._...its not okay! I....I don't know what is happening. What is....where are we? What....I don't know...."**

_So **she** came too. Well then, that's...._

Akira was too tired to figure out how to feel about Nijima's presence. More of his shock was wearing off. Whether that was the result of some of their healing magic actually working on the cognitive aspects of it, or simply time passing, he didn't know. Everything felt jagged, too bright, too raw.

" **You** just shut up for right now, okay?"

_Too tired....to hear them fight right now, I..._

"Stop, I..."

A flash of yellow leather gripped his hand. His skin was stained with his own blood, and the sight made him feel bizarre and airy. "I'm right here, man. Guys. I told you, we need to take him to a _hospital_. These cognitive healing skills have never done shit for my leg; they're not helping him with real world stuff. He needs a doctor, and now. Mona, can you get us back out?"

_Hospital? Doctor? I...._

"No...no, you can't."

_Not there. Not....nnngh..._

**_[[ .....everyone! Out of the way, we need--......burns.......his body....... shock, danger of............kid, you can't be in here, you................. Aki.......... ]]_ **

**_[[ ...You did this. What did you do?!........You did this...........]]_ **

"I'm sorry, we've just _gotta_ , where else are we--"

Another wash of purple, a disorienting dizziness that Akira grasped even as it vanished, wishing for a frightening moment that he could just stay in that in-between place.

"--shit. That was quick, Morgana, shit."

"We...we were still on the fringes, so..."

Akira cleared his throat, blinking back a wave of static sparks. Somehow, returning to reality had shocked a certain level of alertness back into his mind, and he'd realized their only good option.

"Take me...to Iwai. He can do something. Sojiro....can't know. Slow us down." He tried to sit up, and Yusuke supported him with an arm. There was blood on Yusuke's shirt. There was blood on _everyone's_ shirts.

In the background, a small voice that he barely recognized as belonging to Makoto Nijima whispered, "Iwai? Is that...a clinic?"

Seeming to ignore her, Ann spoke directly to Akira, "The airsoft guy? He's just a few blocks away, but--but how can--"

Akira pulled himself up using Yusuke's body as leverage, and the Thieves gasped, gesturing at him to stay down. "Please, trust..... he's...there's reasons I can trust him with this. I.." Akira forced himself to stagger to his feet, only to be overcome by a brick wall of dizziness. He went greyer. "I'll walk. Something...cover me. Hide it."

From behind Ann, Nijima stammered, "Will....will this do?" She unbuttoned her black vest and handed it over, hands shaking. Yusuke took it from her without really looking at her, folded it, then pressed it into Akira's side. It mostly covered the blood.

"Haaaaa--" Akira gasped at the pressure, swaying.

Yusuke and Ann caught him, just before he lost balance. Voice trembling, Yusuke insisted, "You can't walk. I'll carry you, please let me--" Akira stiffened, wanting to argue, to do _something_ under his own power, but the sudden tenseness only added to the agony in his wounded abdominal muscle.

"S...shit, I...."

 _Breathe_  
_Just Yusuke_  
_Necessity_  
_Haaa_

He panted through the pain enough to uncrouch and nod shakily. "Ok. Ok."

Yusuke stooped, gently tucking one arm under his shoulder and the other behind his knees. He staggered as he lifted him, and Akira bit back a hiss of pain as the movement agitated his wound. He buried his face in Yusuke's bony collarbone, willing himself not to fight his way back out of his arms. "Gonna....gonna bleed on you. Shirt's white. Sorry. I'm sorry."

Yusuke gripped him tighter. "That is the least of my concern right now. Please save your strength."

_There's something else it was what was it I know I realized I remembered something it was--_

His mind fuzzy, Akira mumbled into Yusuke's shoulder, "Ann--"

"Yes, Akira?" the blonde girl asked tremulously.

_Right....dragged in....danger...no point no point to any of this, of this_

**_[[ ......................... ]]_ **

_.....no point if she gets eaten gets eaten by shadows Ann knows, she'll Ann will will_

He tried to get the important words out, but through this fog, nothing seemed to work right. "Nijima....she'll have the app.....Ann, explain, and then....Please. Get her out of here. And take...Mona for the night. Can't....can't carry...sorry Mona I...."

Ann shook her head violently, pigtails thrashing the air. She wailed, "I can't just leave you!"

Ryuji spoke up then, serious as death. "Ann, I fucking hate it, but he's right. We've got him. Go. She can't be here, not with that creep threatening to..." A dark look clouded his face. "Please, Ann. But..."

Through half-shut eyes, he saw his friend turn to the other girl, his mouth set grimly. "But Nijima...next time we go in, you're comin' with. You wanted to be a part of this? Then you can see just what you were askin' us to do. You don't get to just sit back in safety."

"I....I....." She seemed to have no answer for him.

Reluctant but resigned, Ann whispered, "Fine. Go, guys, I've got this. But...." Her face sharpened with intensity. "You'd better be okay. You've got to...." Fresh tears building in her eyes, she looked away, grabbed a stunned Nijima's arm, and ran toward the main street, two school bags thrown over her shoulder.

Yusuke followed a haggard, limping Ryuji through a series of side streets, Akira wincing at every jolt, as the waif of an artist struggled despite his determination to carry him.

"I could walk. I really think I...could..."

"No."

Ryuji panted through his own pain, gesturing ahead past a series of overflowing dumpsters. "Just a few more blocks through here. Damn but I wish we could take main streets."

Yusuke winced. "Agreed. But....impossible."

Ryuji spoke again. "Akira...? Man....? Maybe this isn't the time, but....but what was that guy doing, talkin' about knowing you?"

"NO. No, I--"

_They can't they can't they can't find out just don't ask don't ask I didn't even get a year I didn't_

Akira flailed in panic, accidentally throwing himself out of Yusuke's arms. "Akira! Wait--ahhh!--" They toppled together in a bony jumble of elbows and blood.

Akira's mind greyed out. Shaking, world spinning, his stomach seized and he puked on the sidewalk, narrowly missing Yusuke, and his own shoes.

Ryuji fell to his knees on the concrete, his forehead pressed to Akira's forehead as the sun began to set, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Akira, I'm sorry. Not...not the time. Sorry."

A burst of delirious laughter croaked from somewhere deep in Akira's ragged throat. "It was...inevitable..." He closed his eyes, aware that he was being lifted again, but too giddy and overwhelmed to care anymore. Even he wasn't sure what he meant by that. What was inevitable? The questions? Or his fate?

_Sometimes I think....I was born to be..._

_....a human sacrifice....but this wasn't....this wasn't..._

_Wasn't what I'd been prepared for, not yet, I--mom, she's--_

"They're gonna kill me." He half-smiled, hidden in Yusuke's stained shirt. Yusuke squeezed his hands, gripping Akira tighter.

Through panted breaths, he insisted, "No. That will not happen. I...I won't allow it."

"No, no, we'll get those bastards. Akira, we can't fix this, but we'll get him, okay? I'll...I'll fucking kill him. I'll kill him."

"No, not h....." Akira bit back the words. He was too out of it, he was saying too much, he--

_I can never go home_

_Never go home_

_Never_

_Never_

The creak of a door, and a blast of cool air that shocked his senses. The familiar scent of shaved metal and benign neglect. "We're here, man. We're here. Iwai-san, please, we need--"

"What in the **ever living** **fuck** did you drag in here? Is that....hey, I'm not a doctor's office!" Iwai's voice was sharp and stern, and Akira cracked an eye open to watch the man lean over the counter, caught the flicker of recognition in his face as their eyes met.

"....can't.....go there, I...."

"Shit. Damn it, kid. Get in the back room." The grizzled man shouted at his single idling customer, "Get the fuck out. ...Don't look at me like that, you weren't gonna buy anything anyway. Blondie, lock the door."

As the deeply alarmed teenager scurried out of the shop, and Ryuji locked the door after him with a ((click)), Iwai huffed, like they'd expect an explanation, "Hmph. People love me for my selection, not my customer service skills." He lead them to the back, where he helped Yusuke deposit Akira on a ragged, oil-stained couch. Ryuji trailed behind him, finally allowing himself to collapse in a corner, his head between his quaking knees.

"Now what in the goddamn hell is going on?"

Yusuke, sitting on the linoleum floor to hold Akira's hand, stammered, "He was stabbed! He--"

"Shit. Lemme see." Iwai shouldered Yusuke out of the way to peel back Akira's bloodstained shirt. Akira winced as the sodden fabric was torn away, exposing his side to the frigidly air conditioned room.

Iwai whistled at the wound, and seemed to try to get the best look at it that he could without actually touching it. "Wheww. _That_ can't feel great. Details!"

_Understatement...of the year._

Akira slapped a hand to his mouth to restrain the laughter that threatened to bubble up sickly from his throat. In his absence, Ryuji answered, dully, from the corner. "He...man, I don't think we can tell you what happened or who, just..."

"No, blondie, I don't want the _story_ , I need to know what he got stabbed by. It'll matter if it was a fucking dirty boot knife or something."

"It was a small switchblade," Yusuke answered quietly. "Only about two inches long, perhaps two and a half. It looked clean and well cared for."

" _Thank_ you. Not great, could be way worse. Great news kid, you'll live. See?" Iwai gestured with the toothpick that had been in his mouth when they walked in. "Wound's already clotting, and they didn't hit anything major. Blood's dark. Didn't hit an artery. You got lucky, kid."

Yusuke murmured, overwhelmed, "Thank the heavens..."

Iwai stood back up from his half-crouch, slapping his legs. "All right. Hang tight, I'll be right back. Just need to run upstairs for some supplies. **Don't** move, the last thing I need is fucking blood everywhere."

The man's legs receded through a door and up a narrow flight of stairs that all three Thieves now knew from experience lead to a few upstairs apartments. Akira could barely hear scraps of his deep voice murmuring as he left, _".....just a kid. Not much older than Kaoru.......I know it's...............this damn city..."_

In his absence, Akira closed his eyes. This proved to be a mistake, as his head spun in a horrible, dizzying carousel. The surge of nausea made him gag, wrenching his raw throat and clenching his injured abdominal muscles. His ears rang, and he forced himself to open his eyes again, blocking the harsh light of the back room with his fingers, pressed into his eyes. Through them, he saw Yusuke and Ryuji's pale faces.

He stared up at the ceiling. He loved them. Both of them, so much, he really did. But he couldn't handle...he couldn't handle...

_Will they....look at me differently? And then I'll know...how they'll feel, if they find out..._

_...who I am..._

Boots stomped down the stairs, the thudding rattling his exhausted and aching head. Iwai dragged a small rolling cart over to the couch, placing a battered medical kit, a roll of bandages, and a gallon of purified water on its dull aluminum surface. He stared down at him for a moment, silently, intently.

 _Too_ intently.

_Don't look at me don't don't look at me_

Akira's mind swam as blood he couldn't afford to lose rushed into his head. Dizzy, he barely caught Iwai's next words--

_"......ucked your face.....p too, huh? "_

_What did he--heknowsdoeseveryone- will everyone know--_

Akira's breath caught, and he felt lost in static. Horrified, he stammered, "What--what did you say? I...I.."

_\--will Bossknowwillmyparentswill I whowill--_

"I said he fucked up your face?" Iwai's voice came from a million miles away, until the words properly arranged themselves in his head, and he zeroed back in like someone diving through the mouth of tunnel vision. "Somethin' happen to your hearing too, kid?"

_Didn't see doesn't know okay okay just_

"Oh, of course, you mean.....yeah, that happened."

_Calmdowncalmdowncalmdown_

Yusuke laid a hand tentatively on his shoulder, and after fighting off the initial urge to shake it off, the gentling contact....helped. Just a little, but a little is more than nothing. "I don't really want...to talk about it."

"Fair. Honestly I probably shouldn't know.  No, I **definitely** shouldn't know." Iwai stood up and strode briskly to an industrial sink in the corner, where he scrubbed his hands vigorously.

_He...he....even if he knows, I, I, I think he will keep quiet about it._

_This is all for nothing if they go after Nijima-senpai after all._

"Who?" Iwai seemed surprised at his own question, pausing over the sink with a towel in his hands.

_Can I?...I....he knows....Shibuya...should know, in case, danger....I trust--_

"The one....who owns this city."

Yusuke murmured into his hair, "Akira, are you sure? He--" Akira silently nodded, and his boyfriend fell silent again.

"Well, shit. How'd you manage that?" A pause. "No, I still don't want to know."

"I'm sorry. I just need to be patched up enough to get home."

_Home....I....I didn't even get a whole year...._

"I mean....I'm gonna do it, but you're not gonna like it." More heavy footsteps. A creak, the sound of a rolling chair moving across the floor. A flash of movement. "Lollipop?"

"Huh?"

Iwai was, indeed, holding out a plastic sack of candies.

"Might help with what I've gotta do next. Or..." a shrug. "Might not. Couldn't hurt, though. Watermelon or strawberry?"

_Watermelon....or.....?_

The bizarre normalcy of the offer set Akira off-kilter, and he laughed with more than a hint of hysteria. "Strawberry. Haaaa. I love strawberry."

"Strawberry it is, then."

Akira tried to unwrap the proffered sweet, but his hands were too shaky, and still sticky with his own blood. Still, he struggled with it, becoming increasingly agitated over his failure.

_I can't....I can't do **one. simple. thing.**_

**_Why can't I--?!_ **

_Oh...._

_....._

Silently, Yusuke had plucked the sucker from his fingers, unwrapped it, and replaced it.

"...thanks," he breathed in the smallest voice.

Roughly and without finesse, but not unkindly, Iwai set to work. Akira ground his teeth around the candy in his mouth. Bizarrely, it did help. Something else to focus on. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see.

Cold, and raw pain, as Iwai washed his wound with bottled water, and then an antiseptic wipe. Sharp pinching, a release, and, "Skinny, wash your hands. I want you to hold his wound shut so I can get these butterfly stitches on." More pinching, from freezing, shaking hands. "Ok. Grab a towel and start washing the blood off him and yourself. You too, blondie, catch!"

"Yeah. Okay." Ryuji sounded exhausted. After finally allowing himself to stop moving, he didn't have much left in him, if anything.

"I'll give you guys some old t-shirts to change into so you don't start a fucking panic trying to get home. How the hell you kids made it here, I don't know." A slathering of some kind of ointment. The tearing of medical tape. More pressure, and something rustled against his side. Akira cracked his eyes open. A loosely taped bandage.

Iwai tore open a ziplock bag, tossing in the remainder of the bandages, tape, and ointment. He handed it to Yusuke, then spoke. Whether to Akira or Yusuke, he couldn't really tell. Akira stared back up at the ceiling, eyes following the rotation of a slowly spinning fan.

"Change this twice a day. Wash it with this. It's gonna sting like shit, but you gotta do it anyway. Slather this on there, and DON'T let the dressing stick or you're gonna regret it later. If it gets hot, or starts oozing shit, you're gonna need to take these butterfly stitches off and let it air. That's also gonna suck ass, but you've gotta do it."

A zipping sound, presumably from the medical kit. A rattle. "If you really can't get to a clinic, and this shit's getting infected, gimme a call and let me know. These are...uh...veterinary antibiotics, but whatever, it's the same shit, just weird doses. Honestly though, he should heal up fine. Now open up and swallow these." Something pressed against Akira's lips, and he allowed it, past the point of caring. Small pills. He swallowed. "Just OTC pain meds. You're not gettin' anything illegal from me, but it's better than nothin' right?"

Akira nodded slowly. "Right."

Iwai prodded Akira's shoulder, and he forced his eyes over to him. His eyes were heavy, his face solemn and serious. "Keep yourself resting for as long as you can. I know you're a stubborn little shit, and I don't know what you've gotten yourself into, but...try, or you're gonna regret it."

"I'll try."

Yusuke spoke up then, as he stashed the bag of supplies in his bookbag. "I'll make sure he does."

"Good. Good, then. Now, kid, we're gonna have a talk. Can you focus?"

_Can I? ...._

The quiet of being cared for had allowed him to calm himself, and bring himself back further into reality, whether he liked it or not.

"Yeah."

"Can you sit up and look at me?"

"Y...yeah."

"Man, does he gotta?" Ryuji asked, raising his head slightly from between his knees to watch them. He looked a little more himself, his shirt turned inside out to hide the blood. Akira pulled himself up with a low groan, surprised to find himself able to move at least a little more easily. He shivered, the cold air hitting his bare back.

"Oh, take this." Iwai thrust an ancient brown t-shirt into his hands, and a loose grey tank top into Yusuke's. They both smelled vaguely like Untouchables. Akira pulled his over his head with a wince.

The scent was almost comforting. But not homely. He missed Leblanc. He wanted to just sit, in his bed, in his warm bed, and drink coffee, and listen to Sakura clatter around downstairs, and--

He blinked back tears, forcing himself to focus. Not now.

Sharply, looking him in the eyes, Iwai asked, "So what happened, kid?"

_No I..didn't he say he didn't want to know? I thought I was safe from that question._

"No I can't...I can't say, I--"

"No, I mean..." Iwai groaned, stressing his words a little differently, " _What_ happened? You can't talk about this, and you shouldn't. So...."

"What does he mean?" Yusuke asked quietly, settling in next to him on the couch.

_Oh._

Akira understood, even if Yusuke didn't.

_Right. I know how this works. This is a skill that I **do** have.  _

_Something I can do...myself._

"Oh. What...what happened. What happened was...."

He took a breath, trying to think. His eyes flickered around the room, landing on Ryuji, who was massaging his leg, wincing. "I.... _we_ got hit by a car. We were running around like idiots, and didn't look both ways. The car braked, and didn't get us too badly. It looks worse than it is. The doctor said it'll heal up fine."

Ryuji's head snapped up, eyes wide. He looked grey, and perhaps a little stunned at how easily Akira had spun the lie.

"It'll work. Don't volunteer it so easily. Act a little more embarrassed. Try again. Also, think up more details, but _don't_ use them. What doctor did you go to? How did you get there? What did the car look like? Driver take off, or stick around? Who was with you? Have that picture set in your head like it's your favorite friggin movie, kid." Iwai's voice was clipped, professional, and deadly serious.

_But this is...his caring isn't it? He's trying to keep me alive._

_Huh._

"Okay."

"Again. So, what happened?"

"This? Oh, it's nothing, haha." Akira forced a laugh, forced his eyes to crinkle, forced a hand bashfully to the back of his neck. The movement hurt.

"You sure? You seemed like you were wincing a bit there."

Iwai prodded his side.

Akira hissed.

Ryuji blurted out, "Hey, what the hell?!," and Yusuke gasped.

Iwai ignored them.

"Don't wince."

Iwai prodded his side again. Akira greyed slightly, but kept a smile on his face.

"Better. Anyway. 'You sure? Seemed like you were wincing a little there.'"

"Oh, uh...haha, to be honest, I was milking it a bit." Akira scratched the back of his head self-consciously, cringing in a friendly but embarrassed way.

"If you say so. Can I take a look at it?"

"Oh, no, I'm supposed to keep the bandages on for another week or two. I don't want it to get infected, you know?"

"Infected? Is it that bad?"

_Shit. Too much information, right?_

"Nah. It's probably just a dumb precaution, but you know how it is."

"Okay. Now, worst case scenario time." The couch creaked as Iwai settled onto the edge, pushing aside Yusuke's legs.

"Someone has literally held you down," Iwai gently...ish pushed Akira down. "....forcibly taken off your bandage, somehow realized that it was a stab wound, and is demanding answers. What will you say?"

"I....uh....I didn't see who it was."

Iwai shook his head. "No dice, kid. Stab wound is in the front. You saw the guy."

"I...didn't notice his face."

"He was literally stabbing you. _Why_ didn't you notice his face?"

Akira floundered. "I...I don't know, I...."

"Something noticeable, but common enough to be untraceable. Your buddy here's got the right idea." He gestured to Ryuji, and his bright red shirt. Ryuji flinched, looking ill. "Maybe you focused on a really loud piece of clothing the guy was wearing, right?"

"Right. A...a bright green shirt."

"Right. Such a shame. He's probably tossed it by now."

"Yeah. I feel really dumb about it. Wish I would have looked at his face."

By the time the trio left Untouchables, Iwai had drilled Akira's story straight. Their bloody clothes had been tied into plastic grocery sacks and stashed in their bags.

After an hour of rest, they silently walked to the train station together, too exhausted and overwhelmed to process anything further tonight. Separating from them to head to his own train, Ryuji wobbled uneasily, ground his teeth, steadied himself, and placed a hand tentatively on Akira's shoulder.

" 'M not gonna say anything more about....anything tonight. But I'm here, ok? We're all here. Just want you to know that."

Akira nodded, pressing his forehead into Ryuji's shoulder. Quietly, he murmured, "Okay."

Over his head, Ryuji called to Yusuke, "You'll be able to get him home okay? And run interference with Sakura-san? And....and help him take care of it and stuff?"

Yusuke took Akira's hand. "I will."

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

_[[ Where is safe? Has that word ever truly had meaning?_

_The world of his dream came into focus, and Akira found himself standing, tense, in the middle of a kitchen that no longer existed. Vintage green linoleum, the old white cupboards. His father had painted them grey the following year, while Akira refilled the paint tray for him, in between scarfing down ham sandwiches. White cupboards. Then, this was...._

_Akira's mouth opened to speak as he stared up at his mother. Far up. He had to crane his neck to meet her grey eyes with all of the defiance he could muster. He stomped his foot once, hard, like he'd seen on TV._

_"Mom, why can't I go out? My friends are all at the park across the street today, they said I **have** to go this time, or....or they won't bother inviting me anymore."_

_"It's just not safe. It's a busy street, and **anybody** could be at that park."_

_"I...I know. But do I have to be safe **all** the time? You even walk me to and from school! I just...I'm in 4th grade! I wanna be brave! I really think I'm old enough now! Please, mom?"_

_Her patience breaking, she snapped, " **No, Aki, and that's final!** Why do you have to be like this? Why make things so difficult for me, when you already know the answer? Why keep asking, and asking, and **asking?!** "_

_"But won't that answer ever **change**? When will it **change**?"_

**_"Never, okay, just never! You're never going out on your own, so just forget about it."_ **

_"........."_

_His eyes filled with hot, frustrated tears, and he covered his face with his arm. He'd known better, but his friends had been **so sure** that if he just **asked** \--_

_"I'm sorry for yelling, Aki. Come here. I'll explain again, okay? And then you'll understand. The world is a big, scary place, more than you know. It's safer here."_

_Akira slowly unburied his face to see his mother leaning down, tucking a strand of long black hair behind her ears. She smiled, but he wasn't sure if it was real._

_"Come on. We'll have fun, okay? Let me build you a blanket fort, like we did last summer. We can stay in there all day, reading together. Don't tell me you're too big to have a little fun with your mom...."_

_He forced a small smile that slowly became real with her continued reassurance and cajoling. This was normal. This was familiar. He got frustrated sometimes, but they always fixed things together._

_"No, I...I guess I'm not **too** big."_

_"Okay. You help me then. Can you drag the kitchen chairs into the big room, while I grab the spare sheets? We'll work together to make this a good day."_

_Akira crawled into the blanket fort, surrounded by long lost mementos of his childhood. The cracked floral mixing bowl, from his grandmother's house, full of popcorn they'd made together on the kitchen stove. The patchwork quilt, threadbare from years spent dragging it across straw floors as a toddler. A little plastic cup, silver stars glittering from the bottom, like old friends waving hello._

_(( My cup of stars.... ))_

_He smiled, sinking into the safety. Closed his eyes, enjoying the simplicity, the familiarity. Comforts and scents he'd nearly forgotten._

_Warm...._

_"Aki, come out! I have a surprise for you!" His mother's voice echoed, as if calling from a much further distance than made sense. He'd better hurry if he was going to catch up._

_"Okay, mom!"_

_Half dozing, a sleepy smile on his lips, he crawled from the tent on his hands and knees....and onto splintered wood._

_(( This...this isn't...where...? ))_

_It was cold, and he shivered. Akira wrapped his arms around his legs, and realized they were longer now, thinner. Missing that last vestige of childhood softness. He opened his eyes. An aluminum door. Cracked ceramic pots, their contents long dead. His own feet, blue, and shoeless._

_He knew where he was. And when._

_"Mom.....can I come in? Please, mom?!"_

_"No. Not until I can stand to look at you."_

_"When will that be?"_

_"......."_

_Surrounded by her silence, his shoulders shook in a combination of fear and exhaustion. The wind whipped his hair, blowing long, dark strands into his mouth. They stuck to his face, and his throat, fixed there by the tacky remnants of half-dried tears._

_"Then...then where do I go?"_

**_"I don't care."_ **

_In a daze, he walked for miles, finally passing the demolished husk of his old home. It had been months, and the debris had still not been cleared away._

_His feet moved of their own accord, taking him to the park across the street. It was empty. He'd missed his friends' invitation by years, now, and they'd been true to their word, refusing to offer any others._

_Akira crossed the brown, wintery lawn, past swaying, rusted swings, an overflowing city trashcan. He'd wanted to come here so badly, he remembered, but in the end, it wasn't anything special. It was empty._

_Like he was._

_Across the field was a small pond. He remembered the endless paper boats he'd folded that summer, practicing, perfecting them, so he'd have something to show off when he was finally permitted to go out._

_He'd burned those too, in the end._

_Akira waded into the pond, step by step, ignoring the pain spiking through his already-chilled legs from the frigid water. It was murky, its shores full of trash and the occasional fish corpse, and he wondered to himself,_

_(( If I stay here, does this count as littering? ))_

_He waded deeper, and deeper.  The water rose to the his chest, and then suddenly dropped off, and a wash of gritty muck flooded his mouth._

_Akira panicked, backing up, flailing, searching for the shore, but as he turned, there **was** no shore.  In every direction his frantic eyes met only an endless, rising tide._

_(( Am I going to drown, am I going to--what's-- ))_

_He thrashed in the water, and through his fear realized that the movements felt foreign. Wrong.  Too fluid, to sinuous.  Too vague, too many limbs, too--_

_Beneath the water, beyond his sight and control, he was changing, melting, **becoming.** Becoming something that wouldn't drown._

_(( What am I?  Am I me?  Where are my legs? Am I...I'm a creature, I'm some monster, **NO, what is this?  I don't want this!** But I.... ))_

_Akira's movements slowed._

_(( But I don't want to drown. ))_

_He relaxed._

_He felt the foreign, slithering limbs that were his but **not his** slide through the water with ease, buoying him.  Keeping his head above the surface. _

_From nowhere, and everywhere, a cold voice called him, like a message written in frost on the back of his eyes._

**_If you can't survive in this world, you adapt. If nowhere is safe, you become something unsafe yourself._ **

_A cracked, clawed hand emerged from the water, cupping liquid. It wasn't water in that dead, shriveled palm._

**_So you see now. The necessity of change._ **

**_Will you drink my tonic?_ **

_The liquid swirled, black, and tarry. Like a pool of leeches, circling, waiting to be gulped down to do their work in peace. In the dark. Inside._

_"I....I don't know, I......I want to be **me** , I...."_

**_You are you, and I am me, and I am you, and you are me._ **

**_You'll see that soon, whether you want to or not._ **

_"No, you're **not**! This isn't.. **.I won't accept** \--"_

_Akira thrashed, trying to raise his hand, to claw that horrid, dead thing away from his lips. The hand raised. The pruned, grey fingers twitched._

_They were his. ]]_

 


	42. Vulnerability/Influence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day dawns, and with a nightmare still echoing in the back of his mind, a vulnerable Akira finds an unexpected impromptu therapist.
> 
> CW for trauma-related panic attacks.

_[[ Yusuke jolted awake, startled by something he couldn't yet identify. He blinked, adjusting his eyes to the darkness of the attic. Pale, and purple, the room slowly came into focus._

_(( It must be near dawn. But, what.... ))_

_He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, listening. Initially, he heard nothing, and wondered if he'd been awoken by his own broken dreams. He couldn't remember them, other than a vague sense of horrible loss. But that sensation was enough to make his heart feel heavy and cold._

_(( If I had the skill to pour this feeling into art...surely I'd make the world weep. ))_

_Yusuke rubbed his eyes, considering whether to simply stay awake despite the early hour. His body felt drained and lethargic, but that wasn't necessarily...out of the norm. But then--_

_A flash of movement, in the corner of his eye._

_A shadow, just visible through the canvas curtain. An initial wave of cold panic flooded him, a terror of (( Have they found us? Has someone broken in? Their hand--gun?! Is it-- ))_

_Yusuke gasped into the dim room, only to see the vague outline withdraw its hand, then pause, silent and unmoving. Fully roused now, he gathered his senses, willing his heart to return to its usual rhythm._

_(( No, we have two weeks. I'm safe, we're safe, there's no gun, it has to be-- ))_

_"Akira....is that you?"_

_"....Yusuke? I...."_

_Yusuke reached up in a flash to turn on his overhead lamp, then leapt from bed, throwing back the curtain. Akira stood on the other side, blinking and cringing at the sudden wash of glaring brightness. He looked....haggard._

_The dark haired boy reached a hand out toward Yusuke, then seemed to rethink it, withdrawing. Squeezing his eyes shut against the light, he mumbled, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I mean..." He covered his face with one hand, swaying slightly on his feet. Alarmed, Yusuke crossed the remaining gap between them, taking his arm. "I mean I did, but then I changed my mind. I...I don't know, I...."_

_(( So this is what woke me. Thank goodness I slept lightly. If I'd have missed this, and left him alone in the night, I don't know that I'd be able to forgive myself. ))_

_(( I promised to be by his side, and yet...I merely stood there, helpless, preserving my own life, as he stepped into...into... ))_

_(( I cannot allow that ever again. ))_

_Closing the curtain behind himself to dim the light, Yusuke placed a hand on Akira's shoulder, looking into his face with concern. He looked frayed, deep circles beneath his eyes, and a strange, uneasy set to his lips, the corner repeatedly quirking and unquirking._

_"You should be resting. Are you all right?"_

_He knew it was the wrong question even as he asked it. Akira lowered his head, his face falling into shadow._

_(( I am not adept at this. I am not...I'm sorely lacking, and I'm afraid. How does one approach this sort of pain? ))_

_Yusuke took a breath, preparing himself to try again. "What I mean is...what can I do? Can I bring you back to your bed?"_

_"I...I guess. I was going to walk back. So okay."_

_"Okay." He placed his arm around Akira's waist, careful with his hand so as not to brush against his bandage. Yusuke had to hold back an exclamation of alarm as he did so -- Akira was startlingly cold. It was no wonder he looked so wan. Despite his own tendency to run anemic and chilly, the hair of his arms stood on end._

_(( How is it that he is so frigid? Is it from the bloodloss? Or something else? ))_

_Yusuke lead Akira to his milk crate bed. In retrospect, when they arrived, he wondered if he should have offered Akira his own bed instead--even that ancient futon had to be higher quality than this. But Akira had already settled himself down with a wince._

_Yusuke perched on the end of the mattress, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. As he glanced up, he could still see the faded traces of the moon, just barely touched by the first pale light of dawn. This position, this moment, it reminded him--_

_"Was it a nightmare again?"_

_Akira startled slightly, and Yusuke felt simultaneously like he had hit the mark, and that hitting that mark may have been a mistake. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer."_

_Burying his head in his pillow, Akira murmured uncertainly. "I **think** it was. But...it wasn't..." He pulled his face away, glancing up at Yusuke with haunted eyes that wrenched the artist's heart. "It was too real."_

_The eyes of the nesting crow outside the window glittered darkly, watching Yusuke as he agonized over how little he had to offer his boyfriend._

_(( If only I could whisk these dreams away from him. That he cannot find respite even in sleep seems...immensely unfair. Is this inequity the true way of the world? ))_

_(( Still, there must be something that I am capable of. ))_

_Cautiously, he asked, "Do you want me to speak again? About art, or...or anything else, if that does not interest you?" It had calmed him before. Perhaps it would work again._

_Akira didn't reply initially. Instead, he turned in bed, wincing at the change in position. He pulled himself up, his hair falling messily into his face, obscuring his expression, other than his slowly moving lips._

_"Yusuke...?"_

_"Yes?"_

_Staring down at his hands, limp in his lap, he murmured, "Have you ever wondered...'what if who I **think** I am isn't who I am in actuality'?"_

_That was....more existential than he'd expected._

_"What brought this on?"_

_"I'm not sure. I...I don't know. I just wondered. But you don't have to answer."_

_(( If this is what he wants to talk about, then... ))_

_"In a way, I suppose. For far too long, I lived a double life of sorts, while thoroughly believing in the reality of both of them." Yusuke watched Akira cautiously, but his expression didn't seem to change. Hoping this was the right thing to say, he added, "Breaking out of that...it can be hard to reconcile."_

_"That makes sense." Akira stared into the glow of the attic's rear, looking pensive. It hadn't been enough._

_(( Who was he, I wonder? Who was he that his face was known to a person like that? ))_

_(( I...I won't judge him for it. I make a vow now, to myself and to him, to refuse to do so. He is who he is, fully worthy of being cherished. But even so...these scraps of his past. I'm afraid for him. ))_

_Yusuke tried again. "I think...Akira, I think it is acceptable to have lived more than one life. Not to speak of myself again, but...I often wonder who I would have become, had my mother not passed. Had I lived years of love and comfort. Who was that child, clinging to his mother's skirt, and who would he have grown to become?"_

_He leaned heavily against the wall. Akira was still. Listening. "But whoever that child was, he is not who I am now. Likewise, I hope someday to grow beyond the weak tool that I became in my time with Madarame. Sometimes one's past becomes a person that you mourn. You put the pieces in a box, and shut it until their memory becomes something you can treat with care."_

_"With care...is that possible?"_

_"I believe it."_

_"I see." Akira seemed unconvinced, but Yusuke prayed that he had at least planted some small seed of hope, whatever it may sprout. Akira sighed, the weight of the world settled into the creases in his weary face. "Yusuke...I'm so tired."_

_"Should I leave you to sleep? There's still some time before morning."_

_"No, I....don't..." He looked up at Yusuke, pale, but faintly hopeful. "Don't leave. I think I want to be held, but I'm not sure. Can we...try?"_

_"Yes! I mean I...I hadn't been sure if you would want me to--but I want to. I want nothing more." Slowly, watching Akira's reaction at every step, Yusuke crept to Akira's side. He slid an arm around his waist, feeling for the edge of his bandage beneath his loose t-shirt. "Is this all right? I'm not hurting you?"_

_"You're not hurting me. Thank you. This...I needed this."_

_Yusuke felt reassured by the gentle rise and fall of Akira's chest, and by the trust that had been put in him. They laid like that, in silence, slowly watching the sun rise, illuminating the motes of dust drifting from the attic ceiling._

_His lips pressed into the back of Akira's head, feeling the softness of his hair, the warmth slowly returning to his body.  He relished the small comfort of simply being alive together. There was so much he wanted to say to Akira. But Yusuke was unwilling to risk breaking this fragile moment of peace._

_(( I need you to know...wherever you have been. Whoever you have been, and whoever you are now. No matter where this perilous journey takes us...I will be here, and I will accept you. )) ]]_

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

A phone buzzed. Akira ignored it. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Not now.

It buzzed again. Slowly, Yusuke murmured, "My apologies. I believe that's mine."

Cracking one eye open, he asked, "You wanna get it?"

"Mmmm, I'm loathe to leave this spot. But..."

((Bzzzzt. Bzzt-bzzzt. ))

"Well you're popular today." Akira sighed, then slowly disentangled himself from Yusuke's arms, biting back a groan from the movement. "It's okay. Go ahead and check it. I need to change my bandages anyway."

Behind him, Yusuke looked warm and dazed. He'd laid with him for hours, giving him the space and peace to come back to himself after that....dream.

_But it wasn't a dream, was it? What that woman, Chihaya said...I can't blind myself to it anymore. Something in these dreams is real. Or at least on the same level of reality as the Velvet Room._

Downstairs, the little bell over Leblanc's door jingled, and series of heavy footsteps sounded, along with a papery rustle.

_Boss is here. Along with the groceries for the day, if I'm hearing that right. He had already closed up shop by the time we made it back last night. Hiding this from him..._

He winced, pulling himself out of bed. Turning to Yusuke, he asked, "Where did you put the supplies that Iwai sent with you last night?"

Legs creaking, Yusuke stretched, then rose. "I can fetch them. I need to get into my bag for my phone, regardless."

"Thanks, Yusuke. And, I, um..." In the full light of day, Akira felt strangely bashful over the intimacy they'd shared. Yes, it was just being held, but...the emotional component of it, and his own neediness couldn't be denied. "Just thank you. For everything."

Seriously, Yusuke replied, "If there is ever anything that you need, I will be nothing but pleased to provide it. I promise you."

"Then..."

Akira didn't want to reinforce the other thing he needed from Yusuke. The closest time they'd come to fighting had been about Yusuke not wishing to be his "secret keeper," after all. But this was crucial, for all of them.

"I need your help, to keep this from Boss. I'm sorry to have to ask you to lie...I...I know. But he can't know. I can't put him, or any of the rest of us in more danger than needed."

Yusuke looked torn as he emerged from behind the curtain, withdrawing the package of medical supplies from his bookbag. "I understand. I can make that promise, but only on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You allow the rest of us to support you in this. I will guard this secret, so long as it is one that truly protects you, and not one that pushes aside necessary help for your recovery."

Akira sighed, then walked back into the rear of the attic to sit on the moldering old couch to tend to his wound. He didn't want to risk Sakura walking in on him. Yusuke wasn't asking much, he knew, but somehow, he resisted promising away the ability to hold things back.

But then he remembered more of Chihaya's words.

**_[[ "When you don't allow the strength of those you hold close into the inner reaches of your heart, it becomes easy for vice and ruin to become rampant." ]]_ **

"Okay. I promise." He peeled back the bandage, wincing as it tugged on tender skin. It didn't look as bad as he'd feared. How could a barely inch-wide wound feel like this? Trying to take his mind off of what he had to do, he looked up at Yusuke, who was scrolling through his phone, perched on top of an end table. "So who was texting you? Got a boyfriend on the side?"

Yusuke's eyes widened, and Akira almost regretted the joke. His boyfriend was adept at many things, but reading sarcasm was not one of them. Stammering, he insisted, "No, I, it's simply Ann and Ryuji checking in. Well..." He frowned. "Those two and Tatsumi-san."

Tearing a new length of bandage, Akira asked idly, "Tatsumi-san...that's Lala-chan's friend, right? The costumer?"

"Mm, yes. Apparently he's skilled at a wide variety of crafts. I was supposed to meet him today for some advice on a project I had planned, but I'm contacting him to cancel."

_That's right. He had plans today. And if that will get him out of the house..._

_He's been wonderful. Maybe too wonderful. But I have my own phone off today for a reason. I....I need some time to breathe. To let myself sort out..._

**_[[ ...............the flash of a camera........... ]]_ **

**_[[ ...a hand ....... ]]_ **

Akira stared hard at the bandage in his hand, breathing slowly, willing the memory away. Not now. Not in front of him, when Yusuke himself had...

**_[[ ....the glint of metal in blue hair, and Yusuke standing so still that he might have been frozen in time, frozen in the moment between life and death. Panicked, dark eyes darting to Akira, pleading wordlessly. The deep and horrible sense of helplessness.... ]]_ **

He forced his hand to move. To apply salve. To flatten a bandage. To do anything but think about that evening.

_I promised not to hide things. And I won't. But I can't share them if I don't have the space to sort through them on my own first._

"You should go."

"What?!" Yusuke looked genuinely shocked, his thumb hovering over the screen of his cellphone. He shook his head. "I'd much prefer to be by your side. If you need me--"

Akira shook his head. "I do, but...I also need a little bit of time to just...be. I promise that I'll call you if I need you. But I need to think. And, on top of that..."

A thought popped into his head that began as an excuse, but as he thought it over, turned into something more genuine. "...I need something normal. I need good, normal things to happen. So please meet with him. Learn to make something new, and then...then show me. I'd really like to see. We're going to have to reschedule our planetarium date, after all. But maybe you can bring a bit of the good parts of the outside world home to me instead."

Yusuke had initially seemed poised to vehemently insist he remain by his side, but as Akira spoke, his face settled into a look of consideration. Finally, he smiled, very slightly. "Bring you home a bit of good? If that is your wish, I will do my best to grant it. That is, if you truly mean your promise to call me should you need me."

"I promise."

"And on the topic of our date...I'd happily spend time with you anywhere. Perhaps in a few days, something smaller? The park?"

**_[[ ......rusted swings........]]_ **

**_[[ ....an endless sea, home only to the dead.... ]]_ **

"NO!"

Yusuke startled, and it was only then that Akira realized how roughly the words had come out. He winced, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I didn't mean...But no, I don't want to go to the park."

He felt like an idiot, being afraid of something so innocuous, all over a dream.

_(That wasn't a dream.)_

Still looking concerned, Yusuke murmured, "Then I shall put some thought into it. Something that you will enjoy."

**_[[ ....hand is not my hand but is my hand and-- ]]_ **

"So when are you supposed to meet Tatsumi-san?" Akira struggled to keep the edginess from his voice. He could hold it together. He could.

Yusuke checked the time. "In about forty-five minutes. He asked me to meet him for an early breakfast, as he works this afternoon. But are you quite sure--"

**_[[ ....flying through the air, head against table, a door slammed, and-- ]]_ **

"Yeah. Please, you should take off soon then. I promise, I'll rest up." Akira rose, not quite meeting Yusuke's eyes, and walked back into his portion of the attic. He glanced through his meager possessions, arranged with baffling care by Ann on the shelf beside his bed. He lifted a well-creased book, holding it up for Yusuke's inspection before sinking into the bed with it. "I'll just read for a few hours, until you get back, okay?"

"Robert Louis Stevenson? I must admit, I've never read that one."

"No?" Akira turned the book over in his hands.

He didn't have many objects left over from his childhood. Things that had survived the fire. But this book, along with a few other trifles, had been in his desk at school.

Ever since, he'd guarded it carefully, reading it when he needed a moment to clear his mind of reality. Not even taking in the plot, really. Just a page here, a paragraph there, lulling his mind into a haze of familiarity.

A mental security blanket.

"I've had this one for a long time."

"Perhaps I will borrow it from you someday. Anything you enjoy must be highly fascinating." Behind the curtain, Akira could see the outline of Yusuke dressing for the day. He looked away, abashed.

"I don't know about that. But sure, you can borrow it, if you want. Just take care of it if you do, okay?" His genuine willingness to part with it was a huge testament to his own growing trust.

He was guilty of clinging to scraps of things that made him feel like himself. But...despite his own eternal wariness, Akira knew in his gut that Yusuke would treat it with care.

Yusuke emerged, looking tired but refreshed in an ultramarine buttoned shirt, the sleeves cuffed for the warm weather. "You look really nice, you know."

"Do I?" His boyfriend looked down at himself as though he hadn't put much thought in the matter, but he smiled all the same. "Is this the sort of thing you like? I'll have to remember that."

Akira felt fond, despite his frayed mental state. "You always look like you stepped out of some high class fashion magazine, Yusuke. But yeah. It's nice seeing you wear a little color, you know?"

"Then I will certainly do so more often!" Yusuke reached the stairs, then looked back one final time. "Are you absolutely sure? Or would you like me to fetch you some coffee or breakfast before I depart?"

"Thank you, but no, I'm good. If I need something, I'll be able to get downstairs on my own. Got to bite the bullet eventually, right?"

Yusuke's eyes unfocused slightly, the smile fading from his lips, and Akira realized in an instant the mistake in his phrasing. "Yusuke, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking--"

"--It's fine." The artist shook his head, coming back to himself. "Forgive me, my head was in the clouds."

"I understand completely."

A few more fragmented, uncertain goodbyes, and Yusuke finally made his way down the stairs. Below, he could hear Sakura's mild ribbing, _"Oh, took you long enough! And you're not sticking around for breakfast?"_

_"My apologies, but I have plans for a meal elsewhere this morning. I need to be going if I am to arrive on time, however."_

_"Haven't I told you there's no need to be so formal with me, kid? But anyway, that's fine. Have fun, wherever it is you're going. Running around, painting little old ladies to look like lizards or eggplants or something, I'm sure..."_

_"Ha! And wouldn't that be something! Farewell, Sakura-san."_

The jingle of the door, and one final grumble. _"Ha. I don't think that kid will ever change."_

Akira knelt on his bed, peering from the window. He watched his boyfriend cross the street in front of Leblanc, and then recede into the distance. Only then did he finally allow himself to breathe.

_He's gone. So, now, I can..._

Can what? Now that he had the space, he wasn't sure what to do with it. Part of him had expected to break down into some snotty, sobbing mess the moment he saw Yusuke's back. But instead, he stared at the book in his hands, feeling....nothing.

**_[[ ...nothing and no one and no one and nothing .... ]]_ **

**_[[ ..Give him back! He's....he's me! ]]_ **

He winced, falling back on the bed. His temporary loss of Arsene was definitely not something he wanted to add to the pile of traumas to clumsily paw though today.

Without anything else to go for, Akira decided to turn his phone back on. Instantly, a deluge of texts came through in rapid fire. He wasn't surprised, really...

No. That was a lie. Part of him was. Part of him was used to terrible things happening, and no one noticing. No follow up, no words of care. He'd always been left to patch himself up on his own. But now....the care was here, and he had no real idea of how to handle it.

He tackled Iwai's texts first.

      **Iwai** : You get home ok, kid?

      **Iwai** : gonna answer me?

      **Iwai** : tried calling, looks like your phone is off. Ok, give me a text when you get up, would ya? Just wanna make sure nothing happened on your way back.

Akira tapped out an apology.

      **Akira** : sorry, just really wanted to make sure I slept last night. Made it back fine

      **Iwai** : good. Those supplies helping?

So like Iwai to be carefully vague even in text. But his caution almost made Akira feel safe.

      **Akira** : yeah, definitely. Thanks again

      **Iwai** : thank me by staying out of trouble.

      **Akira** : no promises

      **Iwai** : and why did I not expect anything else from you?

Akira could almost hear him groaning at him, less than amused.  But he knew Iwai.  He'd accept it. Next up, a text from Takemi.

      **Doc** : Can my guinea pig make it to the clinic? I've mixed up something great this time...

      **Doc** : Or...not.

      **Akira** : Sorry Takemi-sensei, my phone was off. I'm pretty worn out so I won't...

He frowned at his phone, then deleted what he'd typed. Better to not mention anything physical with Takemi, or he'd run the risk of her stomping over in those huge black boots to take a look at him.

      **Akira** : Sorry, Takemi-sensei, my phone was off. I'll be busy all week, but after that I should be free.

_Better for her to think I'm just rude or neglectful than to risk her prying._

      **Doc** : All week? Very well then. But let me know as soon as you're free. Your assistance is crucial to my completion of this project.

_And crucial to a cure for that girl._

Akira closed his eyes, filled with guilt over his part in the delay in the creation of what was meant to be a life-saving medication. But he couldn't. He couldn't go in and risk Takemi's too-shrewd eyes catching on something they shouldn't.

      **Akira** : Will do.

With that, he could put off what he'd been truly avoiding no longer.

_What if they treat me like....some...wrong thing? They heard...I don't know how much, and...._

Remembering fragments of Ryuji's attempted questions during the walk to Untouchables, he opened Ann's texts first.

      **Ann** : Hey, you don't have to answer this until the morning. Or, like, at all.

      **Ann** : I just wanted to tell you that I'm here for you. You've helped me though some terrifying shit. But even forgetting all of that, I care about you. So....

      **Ann** : I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. Sometimes I'm afraid that my heart isn't strong enough. But I just wanted you to know that I'm here.

      **Ann** : oh, and, Morgana says he's here too. I'll bring him back to you tomorrow, okay? Just let me know when.

      **Ann** : goodnight, Akira.

He held his phone to his shirt for a moment, chest tight. She hasn't asked any of the questions he'd feared. Ann had been there through all of that terrible day, and had to be terrified herself, but she was still...

      **Akira** : hey Ann

      **Ann** : Akira! You're up!

      **Ann** : were you able to sleep?

      **Akira** : kind of?

      **Ann** : same, tbh. Hey, is there anything you need? I'll bring Morgana back whenever you're ready but he is (shockingly) in no hurry to leave my house. *i* think he misses you though.

      **Akira** : maybe later this afternoon? Actually, Ann, I have a favor to ask of you. I feel weird about it, but...

      **Ann** : anything! What's up?

      **Akira** : can you buy me a new summer uniform polo? I only had the one, and. You know. Um.

Suddenly, bizarrely, the thought of his brand new uniform shirt crumpled in some waste bin somewhere, covered in blood...that was what finally brought a trace of tears to the corners of his eyes. Something so nonsensical and petty, but he couldn't stop the image in the back of his head. The pure frustration of it first, and then...the awful, sickening sadness.

_Part of me is out there, bled out onto more of Shujin-fucking-Academy and thrown in a dumpster._

Blinking back tears, holding his breath, with the feeling that he needed to finish talking to Ann quickly, he typed,

      **Akira** : I'll pay you back for it when you get here, if you can.

Through a haze of tears, face flushed, he saw her reply come through.

      **Ann** : oh my god Akira, of course. Please don't worry about paying me back. I'll bring you a couple tonight then, okay?

Hand wavering, he tapped out "ok," hit send, and dropped the phone on his bed. He'd have to read Ryuji's texts later, because, because....

_Part of me is in the trash somewhere is is--_

_I need to calm back down I need some water, or--or--_

He pulled himself out of bed, stumbling toward the stairs. Maybe he could sneak into the bathroom or something, he really needed to start keeping more things upstairs, he--

"Aaaaaa, shit!" ((Thump **f** ))

He'd tripped on one of the floor pillows, and tumbled gracelessly to the floor. A stabbing, tearing feeling, and he prodded his side, rolling over to make sure that he wasn't bleeding again, that he hadn't fucked something else up, and--

_No. Not bleeding. But it hurts. And here I am on the fucking floor because I can't even walk downstairs for a glass of water, and some "phantom thief" I am, I can't even--_

_Should have had Yusuke bring up coffee after all, or--or--_

He curled into himself, around the velvet floor pillow he'd tripped on, and cried, as quietly as he could.

_Yusuke. He's....and I....I never should have....I...he doesn't know who I am he can't he can't know and he wants to walk together and i never should have never should have_

Akira shook into the pillow, his mind overwhelmed by the staticky haze of panic and by thoughts flickering through his mind so wildly and furiously that it was impossible to catch ahold of them, let alone direct them.

_And I had wanted to to to kiss him_

_And now I_

_I_

_My face is my face is wrong and I and I he--he Kane--he--I--_

**_[[ ..................sweat, and.......... ]]_ **

_No. No I am I am this is this is_

His lungs hurt, his breath twisted ragged and painful and caught in his throat, and

_Is_

_It's wrong its wrong its_

_Breathe breathe bre--GASP--ATHE BREATHE_

_IS this GOING to be the **REST OF MYLIFE I** STHISISTHIS_  
_this is thisisthisiswrongthisiswrongthisis_

**_[[ .....just a part time job.......easy..... ]]_ **

_WRONG ITS WRONG IT, IT, I SHOULDN'T BE ANYWHERE NEAR HIM, I --_

_GASP--GASp--haa--aa_

_haaaa...and_

_aaa_

_......_

_Can't breathe, I_

_....._

_Choking; floating,_

".....on? **HEY** , I said are you okay, son?"

Akira flailed, batting away something that jostled at his shoulder. Head pressed into the pillow, hiding, shaking, floating, numbed, mindless, none of this made sense, none of this--

_Whoisuphere? Who. is. up. attic? who?_

"Akira, breathe. Hold your breath for a few seconds, and then on my count, take a slow, deep one."

 _Boss, I......_  
_oh no oh no, not--no--secret--I--_

Holding a breath was painful and shuddery. It did something awful to the ache in his chest, to the wound in his side, but he tried. Had to try. Before he floated away....

".....4.....3.....2....1, now take a deep breath....."

He tried, but halfway through it he thought, " _breathe in through my mouth mouTH MOUTH HAAA AAAAAAH"_ and began hyperventilating again.

_Hyperventilating...hyper...that's what I'm doing, this is...panic attack, right? Is that is that_

Akira shook his head frantically, batting blindly behind himself, as if to say, _"Go away, go away please."_

Sakura did not leave. "It's okay. It's okay, kid. Now here. Sit up. I've got you. Easier to breathe without your face in a pillow, right?" A rough, kind hand beneath his elbow, and Akira remembered Iwai's words, remembered,

**_[[ "Don't wince." ]]_ **

And he didn't.

_Something right, did something right..._

His face felt flushed and heavy, until it was pressed against something cool. Something solid. A hand on his back. Sakura had pressed his face into his shoulder. "Now try again, and breathe with me. Ready? Hold it. Just like that. Now 5......4....." He sat like that with him, modelling the calming breath pattern with his own steady chest, for what felt like hours, but was probably in reality only a few minutes.

Finally, a hard pit of embarrassment solidifying in his gut like a rock, Akira tore his sticky face from his guardian's shoulder. Unable to meet the man's eyes, he stared at his shoes. "I'm so sorry. Sakura-san I...I think I got snot on your shirt."

"Ehh, it has seen worse." Sakura looked down at him, his expression torn. Finally, he added firmly, "Listen, don't worry about it. This isnt the first panic attack I've helped someone through."

 _But....it **is** the first time I've ever been helped through one.  _ _Thank you._

His guardian stared at him gravely, and Akira forced himself to vocalize his thanks. "Thanks, Boss. I'm sorry, I...don't know what got into me. Ridiculous, I know, and..." He trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

What do you say when you might have thrown off the vague trust and understanding you've finally built between yourself and the stranger you were sent to live with? Sakura didn't feel like a stranger anymore, sure, but...but surely...he didn't sign up for this.

Soberly, Sakura shook his head, standing up. "I don't know what's going on. And I'm not the best for this. But, uh...if you need someone to talk to...."

_Do I?_

_...._

_I will never talk to anyone about this._

"N-no, I'm sorry. Thank you, but...I'm just....really anxious about my future? You know, the whole...probation thing. And I let it get the better of me, I guess. I'm sorry. I usually....do better, sorry."

_Never ever ever. For Nijima-senpai, but even after that..._

_...._

_Just never._

Sakura looked unconvinced, but willing to let it stand. He held out a hand, helping Akira up from the floor. He stumbled, his limbs rubbery.

**_[[ "Don't wince." ]]_ **

"Come on downstairs, kid. Wash your face and you'll feel better. I'll make you some coffee. You didn't even have breakfast yet, no wonder you're jittery."

Akira nodded silently, following his guardian downstairs. Sakura ducked into the kitchen quickly, then returned, handing him a small towel. "Cold water will help. Your face is all red."

In the bathroom, Akira splashed cold water on his face with still-jittery hands, then looked at his reflection in the tiny mirror over the sink. He flinched at what he saw, doubly embarrassed that he'd allowed Sakura to see him that way.

Face puffy and red and snotty and ugly. Eyes shot through with red. Damp hair pasted to his cheek with what was hopefully tears and not mucus.

_Ugh....I'm disgusting._

A hard sniffle

_Nope nope I can't start again, **no.**_

Pushing aside the thoughts the best he could, Akira splashed more cold water across his cheeks, dried his face, blew his nose. He ran his damp hands through his hair, brushing it away from his face.

He allowed himself another glance in the mirror.

_Well, I look vaguely human now, at least. Although something's missing. What....._

_...oh._

He'd never asked for his glasses back from Yusuke, and after wearing them for months, his face looked naked and strange. But still...

_They didn't do me much good in the end, did they?_

_So what was the point of them? Maybe I...I won't bother. Not anymore._

Slowly, he peered into the cafe, and Sakura seemed to notice the motion from the corner of his watchful eye. He gestured to a seat at the counter, where a steaming cup of coffee waited. "Leblanc's best, guaranteed to cure what ails you. You look a little better."

"Thanks. I feel a little better."

It was somewhat true. Nothing was fixed, but knowing that he'd been able to get through a full-blown panic attack without giving anything away...that was comforting. And Sakura himself...

_He helped. I don't know why. But he...maybe that is just the man he is. But...sometimes, he makes me feel like I'm more to him than an obligation._

_It's...nice._

_A little scary. But nice._

Akira settled into his seat, taking a grateful sip of his coffee as Sakura watched. He smiled, and Sakura's face gentled. Seeming content, the man turned to leave him to it, only to spin around again when the bell jingled.

A young professional strode through the door, with a faint wave toward the kitchen. "Hello! Just a coffee please!"

Lowly, Sakura mumbled, "Crap...should have locked up, but I never have customers this time of the day." He flashed a look at Akira, tilting his head, as if to say, " _Can you handle someone being in here right now?"_

Not wanting to impose more than he already had, Akira nodded, though it was a lie. He regretted it nearly immediately as the customer settled into the seat beside him.

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Faithful to your favorite seat, huh? One coffee, coming right up."

_This...it's normal at least._

As he bustled behind the counter, Sakura grumbled to Akira, falling into his habit of instructing his ward in the do's and don'ts of the coffee world. "He's been in here before. He may have asked for "just a coffee," but in reality you need to make it so sickeningly sweet that it is closer to a dessert than it is to a beverage."

At that, Akira had to laugh slightly. He wouldn't have guessed that from the polished looking young man to his right.

The customer chuckled to himself. "Ha! Sakura-san, you know me too well! It's almost embarrassing! "

Akira watched Sakura brew coffee with beans he remembered described as "light, nutty, with a faint hint of chocolate." His eyes widened as he then pumped no less than six pumps of sweetened syrup into the bottom of a small mug, filled it a third of the way with milk, and then topped off what remained with coffee.

_He wasn't kidding. Wow, that's a heart attack in a cup._

Sakura handed it over into the man's eager hands with a scowl. "There's your cup of milk, sir." He then turned to Akira. "I need to prep today's curry. You good sitting here?" An eyebrow quirked toward the customer, leaving " _with company?"_ unsaid.

"Yeah, Boss."

Akira leaned on the counter, enjoying his coffee in silence as Sakura flipped on the television set to the drone of the news, then banged around the kitchen, bringing out his pans and ingredients.

_Normal. Normal is good._

He sat back in his seat, relaxing finally, only for a light voice to pipe up after a moment, "I hope I'm not prying, but you seem to have something on your mind."

_Huh?_

The customer was eyeing him from over his coffee-adjacent beverage. Not rudely, but not necessarily warmly either. His lack of faked friendliness almost endeared him to Akira in that moment. Almost. But he didn't enjoy being picked apart by strangers.

He frowned. "I guess it is obvious, huh? I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you, I can--"

The man waved a hand, gesturing at him to remain seated. "Oh no, don't trouble yourself. You just struck me as a bit of a mystery. I apologize if I put you off your coffee."

_That's..._

Akira tried to break his intensity with a laugh. "Oh, nothing could put me off my coffee. Leblanc's is the best. But that's why you're here, right?"

It didn't seem to work. "You're not wrong! But with any luck, I'll also get a conversation out of it. Please, indulge me. I usually have a pretty good sense for people, if I do say so myself, and something about you has...piqued my interest."

The man's eyes narrowed, and, catching them, Akira felt a strange tug in his chest.

_Like that young man at Chihaya's table, but....different. Why now?_

Akira forced himself to look away, but somehow, breaking that contact felt like a loss. Perturbed, he listened as the man continued speaking lightly, "All the same, I'm having a hard time reading you. So, I'm curious to know...what's on your mind?"

_Is he serious? He **looks** serious...._

The odd customer regarded him intensely, gloved fingers steepled before him on the counter. The coffee had been abandoned temporarily, in favor of prying out his secrets.

_Why?_

"Honestly? You're asking me that?"

"Yes, I mean it."

"Are you that bored? You must be."

A light laugh. "I suppose I am. Is that a problem for you?"

Akira shook his head despite himself. "If it's out of boredom, that's almost better."

Normally Akira would be unnerved by a total stranger taking such a deep interest in him. And, well...he _was_. This was bizarre. But maybe...maybe a stranger was really the only person he could say.... _strange_ things to without consequences.

_Someone I'll never see again. Someone who isn't depending on me to be strong._

And that connection...did that mean that he could trust him? A similar, though not wholly the same, feeling had bloomed between himself and other people throughout town, after all, and they'd all proven to be people who could help him in one way or another. Confidants, or even friends.

Akira peered back into the kitchen, watching Sakura. The man was entirely focused on his curry.

_Fuck it._

He took a breath, staring into his coffee. Tentatively, he murmured, low enough that he hoped Sakura would not be able to hear him over the clatter of dishes and the news, "Well....Have you ever felt like....you might not have what it takes to survive?" He forced a laugh. "Too dramatic, right?

_It is the truth, though._

He glanced over to the stranger. He didn't seem to be judging, or, in fact, emoting at all. That lack of emotion encouraged Akira to continue. Someone who wouldn't react to strange words, who didn't look at you like you were something wrong....

"......But, you know you have no choice in the matter. You have responsibilities, needs that must be met, goals to be reached...."

"Hmm." The man nodded encouragingly, seemingly waiting for Akira to finish his thought before replying.

_Or maybe he won't reply at all. Maybe he's just some weirdo who collects strangers' life stories out of boredom and then just says "cool, thanks!" and runs off._

_If only._

"So to survive, while meeting those goals, you have to put on....a mask. You have to put on this mask, and live two lives, out of necessity. But you find yourself wondering, every moment....'Is that really okay?'" Akira swallowed heavily. "Or...'Am I lying about who I am to people who depend on me?' I don't know...." He sank in his seat as he trailed off.

In the ensuing silence, he felt the guy's eyes still scrutinizing him and felt suddenly horrified with his openness.

_What am I doing? This is...sure, I may never see this guy again, but still, this is bizarre, I--what is wrong with me today?_

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" Akira blurted, mortified at the vulnerability he'd permitted to show. He tried to backpedal. "I don't know why I said all of that, and to a complete stranger! Please forget--"

The voice beside him was surprisingly enthusiastic and sure as it interrupted, "Genuinely, there's no need to apologize! I did ask, after all, and I found your answer quite intriguing."

Akira raised his eyes cautiously and found the young professional still regarding him intensely...but not, it seemed, with any amount of judgement.

_I said all of that, and it didn't even phase him?  Who is this guy?_

"You're weird." The man sputtered slightly into his coffee at his blunt assessment, and it was only then that Akira realized that he had said that aloud.

"It's...uh, not often that I'm called that, but..." Recovering, he laughed. "You may not be wrong! But, ah, disregarding my own sanity, give me a moment to think over a reply to what you said."

_So he isn't just going to listen and run off. Darn._

The customer sipped his coffee slowly, laughter fading. Akira watched him with unexpected interest.

Finally, pensively, the man murmured, "Honestly?" He leaned across the counter, settling onto his elbows. "I don't believe you need to torture yourself about what you're doing. If having this....mask....feels dishonest, frankly, who cares?"

"Who.....cares?"

The stranger nodded seriously. "Who can tell you that doing what it takes to survive, or even to meet your goals, is wrong? And if someone were to disagree, what makes them more right than you are?"

_Huh._

_Is this guy's voice naturally hypnotic, or am I just whipped by my complete and utter breakdown?_

Akira shook his head slightly, trying to break the spell. He was far too dazed and drained for this, despite the coffee. That had to explain why he was allowing this uncanny conversation in the first place. But...

"So yes. Who cares? Even if it isn't how others would handle things, if it is working for you, that's what counts, right?" The young man smiled an odd, sideways smile. "At least, that's what I tell myself."

_That's....almost comforting, in a weird way. To give yourself permission to do what you have to do. I've always tried, but...I back off from it, when I'm afraid of standing out. Or being left behind._

"So is that your philosophy? To do what works for you, others' opinions be damned?" Akira asked.

"My.....philosophy?..." He seemed to ponder the question genuinely.

"Or if that isn't it, what is? "

"My philosophy....Hmm." He tapped a single gloved finger against the handle of his now mostly-empty mug. "I could give you my usual trite, 'inspiring' answer, but I have a feeling that you'd find that less than helpful."

The stranger hummed thoughtfully.

"I'm not usually this candid with people. Rude, I suppose, considering the honesty that I wheedled from you. But that honesty seems like it deserves a...real response."

Akira cringed again at just how much he'd said.

"What I live by? You set a goal, and you do whatever it takes to survive another day and get closer to achieving that goal. Things don't have to be pretty....or....ideal. You don't have to live by standards that others would want to set for you. You don't have to try to want what others would want if they found themselves in your place. The only thing you need to do is...."

The stranger flashed Akira a deadly serious look. "Give yourself permission to do whatever you need to do to survive in this world."

_That's.....allowed?_

Akira felt dazed. This conversation was not one he'd expected that morning. Or ever, frankly. But it was...

"And....if you do that, and you make it far enough that you meet your goal.....what do you do when you get there?"

A laugh burst from the stranger's lips. But not a malicious or mocking one.

"You really are earnest!"

The laugh made him look closer to what must be his true age, and Akira wondered if this wasn't some young professional after all. In reality, the guy might be closer to his own age. His blazer was crisp and expensive looking, but the crest on the pocket, wasn't that a high school's emblem?

Shaking his head ruefully, his impromptu therapist chuckled. "That's a good question! Honestly I haven't gotten that far yet." He paused, and added more seriously, "If you get there, why don't you tell me?"

"How will I tell you? I don't even know your name"

_Why did I ask that? Wasn't the appeal of this conversation that I'd never see him again?_

Too late to be stopped, the stranger replied, "Oh? You dont know my name? That's honestly refreshing in a way." Another small laugh. "Here's my card, and....." he scribbled with a pen pulled from a well-tailored jacket pocket. "....my cell number. Feel free to text, but please don't give it to anyone else."

_I'm sure of it now. He's definitely a teenager, despite how put-together he looks. Huh._

The slender man/teenager? placed his coffee cup on the counter with finality and stood up.

"Now, I'm sorry, I really must be going! I'm afraid I have a speaking engagement to get to."

_A speaking engagement? Someone my age has a job that serious? I guess the briefcase isn't for show.  And he seemed surprised that I didn't know him._

"But I sincerely do hope to hear from you again."

Akira nodded. "I'd like that. I.....I live here, by the way. So, see you around?"

"In that case, absolutely! Sakura-san's coffee is too divine for me to stay away for long!" He smiled brightly, then turned away.

Akira turned the card over in his fingers as the young man strode briskly through the door. "Goro Akechi, huh?..." He saved the contact in his cellphone.

_What a strange guy, to just talk about something that heavy out of the blue._

_Then again, if he's strange, what does that make me?_

_Ha._

_Still, I wouldn't mind talking with him again. The way he spoke....he made things feel so normal. Not too heavy at all. Not too taboo to speak of._

_It was....nice._

Theough the cafe window, he watched Goro Akechi bicycle away into the bright morning, sunlight glinting from silver handlebars and honey-brown hair.

_I care about the others, but I don't know if they could take talk like that in stride. No, I know they can't. They need to know that I'm able to be strong._

_So, having someone I can say things like that to....if he actually understands where I'm coming from...or at least isn't the type to feel obligated to try to fix me..._

_I think it could be good._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Yusuke. You leave your boyfriend alone for five minutes and he's getting life advice from Goro Akechi. 😟


	43. Emperors and Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing PQ2, and am utterly unable to resist a cast cross-over chapter. I've planned cameos all along, but this chapter spun into something larger than I'd intended. The P4 cast won't have major roles in this fic (or the P3 cast for that matter), but hopefully you enjoy this first larger collision of worlds. 😊
> 
> (I had to spend some time rereading the P4 manga to make sure my characterization wasn't too off, as that is the Persona game I've played the least, haha.)

_Yusuke wandered a craft supply store, piling items alarmingly high in his handbasket. He wobbled, and his new acquaintance scooped the items on top of the stack into his own basket, grumbling. "You're gonna drop that shit with your twig arms. Shoulda got a cart."_

_The pair drew eyes as they navigated a shop that was far more used to serving grandmothers and bored aunts than sleek, blue-haired artists and piercing-covered punks. Yusuke himself had been surprised initially by Tatsumi's appearance, but accepted it in the blink of an eye. The art world was meant to be a place where eccentrics of every variety could spread their wings, after all._

_One muscled arm hoisted a basket that contained things that Yusuke had struggled to carry with two. Ignoring the stares, the black-haired man pointed down another aisle. "I think the last of what you're lookin' for is down here. Not sure though. This isn't what I'm used to shoppin' for; I usually work with fabric and shit, since I grew up in my family's textile shop."_

_"I apologize for asking for assistance that is outside of your comfort zone, Tatsumi-san."_

_His companion huffed as he walked. "For the last time, that 'Tatsumi-san" shit ain't necessary. You're makin' me feel like an old man, and I'm only a few years older than you are. Just call me Kanji, okay?"_

_"Kanji-senpai, then."_

_"Kanji-senpai? That sounds so wrong...Just Kanji, dammit."_

_"Kanji. Yes, sorry. Well, I could certainly incorporate textile elements to the piece. What if I were to place swatches of colored fabric here, and here--" He pointed to spots on the sketched outline of his project that they had collaborated on over tea. "--you see? To emphasize--"_

_Kanji shook his head, groaning. "Nah, that wouldn't work."_

_"You think it would be inelegant?" Yusuke frowned at the sketch, considering the composition as a whole, and what the incorporation of an additional element might do to skew that to the negative._

_"Nonfunctional, is more like it. Like yeah, you could throw somethin' gauzy on there and it'd show through, but what you really want for it is....this." He crouched, digging through a low shelf, and withdrawing a packet of thin plastic film in a rainbow of colors. "You see?"_

_"Ah, yes! And that would be much simpler to affix to tin. Now, for the mechanism...."_

_"Ehhh, I don't do much in mechanical shit. And you only have until tomorrow, right? So keep it simple and buy somethin' pre-made, like this."  He gestured to a box on another shelf._

_Yusuke tried to restrain his horror at the thought. "Pre-made? I couldn't! He asked to see what I, myself, could make, and--"_

_Kanji barked with surprising passion, throwing his arms out, "Hey, don't be prissy about this shit. It's not like you make every single thing you've ever used in art from scratch. Are you out there, I don't know, minin' rocks and crushin' beetles to make your own paint?"_

_"No...."_

_(( Although....the possibilities! I wonder what-- ))_

_"If you can't make your own rotating base, store bought is fine. You're an artist, not a friggin engineer. You focus on the uh...what'd you call it?"_

_"The sculptural elements?"_

_"Yeah, that. Anyway, you head to checkout. I'm gonna grab some ribbon. I'm making your boyfriend a goddamn kitten."_  
_Kanji pumped a fist in excitement, startling an elderly woman nearby, who dropped an armful of yarn. "Aww, granny, I'm sorry--hey, don't look at me like that, lemme help you get it." Despite the woman's stammering protests, he gathered up her yarn, then took his own items out of his handbasket, transferring hers into it._

_"Oh, you really are a kind young man, despite the..." She gestured at her face, alluding to his piercings._

_"Yeah, yeah. Have a nice day, granny. Now, Yusuke, kittens!" He balanced his future purchases on his broad arms, waiting eagerly for Yusuke's reaction. "The guy like cats? I just assumed, cuz I've got a buddy who's cat crazy, but if he'd like somethin' else better, tell me."_

_"Oh! Yes, a cat! May I suggest a color palette? I have a sketch here further back, let me...I'm aware it is somewhat odd, but bear with me..."_

_Kanji's eyes narrowed when Yusuke showed him the drawing. "Nekomata? That's..."_

_Yusuke's eyes widened in surprise. "You know it? I'm aware this isn't the standard depiction in folklore, but..."_

_"Yeah, I know that weirdass cat in pants. But how do you know it?" Kanji seemed both alarmed and bewildered as he stared at Yusuke, the sketchpad still clutched in one broad hand._

_(( Oh dear. ))_

_Yusuke blanked at this unexpected development. "That's...I...I'm sure I can't say, I...."_

_"Forget it. I'll make the cat. But...maybe you should meet my friend. He's stayin' with me and my guy for a couple of weeks while he visits the city, and he's gonna get a hell of a kick out of that drawing. You got more time? I can help you get started on this at my place before I head to work."_

_(( A kick out of it? Perhaps...these things **are** drawn from the collective unconscious somehow. It is possible that this depiction is more common than I'd thought, and his friend is a fan? This is very odd. ))_

_Yusuke glanced at his phone. Akira still hasn't sent a text. "I suppose I **could** have the time, but...allow me to check in."_

_Standing in line, he balanced his handbasket on his hip, tapping out a text._

_**Yusuke** : How are you? Do you need me to return?_

_**Akira** : I'm ok. I had a bit of a...moment, but Boss helped me through it, and I'm fine now. Just eating a late breakfast...lunch?, and then I'll go back to reading. Are you having fun? How is Tatsumi-san?_

_**Yusuke** : A moment? I should return then._

_**Akira** : No, Yusuke, really I'm okay. You made me promise that I'd accept help, and I did. Besides, I want to see what you're making. Can I get a hint?_

_Piling his purchases on the counter, he replied uncertainly,_

_**Yusuke** : If you truly insist, then I will finish here. As for a hint...I must decline, as it is intended to be a surprise._

_**Akira** : A surprise? Now I'm really looking forward to it._

_Yusuke considered whether to tell him about Kanji's alarmed recognition of Akira's past Persona. He didn't wish to worry him, but..._

_Finally, he decided that he'd tell him all about it in person when he returned. Perhaps he'd know more by then. He paid for his purchases, his wallet now devastatingly empty. Gathering the bags, he stood off to the side to wait for Kanji to finish._

_**Yusuke** : What pressure! I shall do my best to not disappoint._

_**Akira** : You never disappoint, Yusuke._

_Yusuke's face warmed at that. Surely it was hyperbole, but still..._

_Kanji walked up behind him, plucking the bags from his hands like they were merely so many feathers. "Our apartment's just a coupla blocks away, so follow me. And don't wander off like you did on the way to the shop. I friggin swear, you disappear outta nowhere and I finally find ya, staring at ants carryin' a scrap of beef jerky."_

_"Their teamwork was quite inspiring."_

_"Yeah yeah. You know what you need?" he griped as they turned a corner. "One of those little kid backpacks, with the leash on the back. Y'know, with like fluffy bunny ears on it to trick them into thinkin' it's somethin' cute, but really it's so they don't bolt on ya."_

_"Mmmm, I think I'd prefer a fox."_

_"Ohh, yeah, that'd be cute as shit. I could knit it a little fried tofu accessory..." His own mind now wandering as thoroughly as he'd accused Yusuke of, he opened a thin, creaking wooden door, its green paint flaking around the handle as he twisted. Kanji had to walk through sideways to fit with all of the bags, and he gestured with one shoulder for Yusuke to follow him up a set of stairs, then down a short, brightly lit hallway._

_It was dusty, but somehow gave off an appearance of life lived, rather than disuse. A long row of windows were cracked and smudged here and there, but every crack served only to draw attention to the trailing vines of window box plants, or the home of a particularly industrious spider._

_(( It's...homely. I wonder what his apartment looks like? ))_

_Pushing the door open with one shoulder, Kanji yelled into the apartment, "Hey, I'm home!" A few muffled voices answered indistinctly from within. Yusuke followed him, removing his shoes at the door. Once inside, he took in the apartment at a glance._

_It was small, and might have been claustrophobic from clutter were it not for the airy quality given to it by a series of large, open windows, framed by what seemed to be handmade, patchwork curtains._

_Between the two most prominent windows, several photographs were pinned messily to the wall, featuring a group of slowly aging teenagers in front of a traditional inn, a ski lodge, a rural shrine. Other than photographs, the walls also held a series of carefully framed certificates that, upon closer inspection as Yusuke strode over, proved to be accolades from various police departments, for someone other than Kanji himself._

_He turned, peering into the tiny kitchen with interest. It didn't look like a kitchen at all, truly. The room had clearly been repurposed as a makeshift office. A row of high metal stools ran along the counter, on which were stacks upon stacks of carefully organized file folders, a cup of pens, and a framed photograph of a young, blue-haired child and an elderly man with a clear family resemblance. What food he **could** spy through a half-open cupboard door was all simple convenience food._

_"Over here." Kanji crouched beside a low, square table, littered with disorganized crafting supplies. With one broad sweep of his arm, he brushed fabric scraps and dozens of origami cranes into a bin, then gestured to a floor cushion across from him. "We can work here. You have a seat, okay? I'll be right back."_

_Yusuke did as he directed, staring as Kanji rose from the floor. "Of course, but where--?"_

_"Just....gimme a sec to let my friends and the boyfriend know you're here. Oh, and can I get that sketchbook off of ya?" He held a hand out, waiting, and Yusuke turned the pad to the appropriate page before passing it to him._

_"Oh, ah...certainly. Here. Just don't flip further, some of my work is...er...private."_

_"Lewd shit, huh? Kanji asked knowingly, then glanced away with a faint blush._

_Yusuke flushed himself, poised to deny it, because it wasn't: it was his memories of the Metaverse. Their phantom thief costumes, the swirling, aching maw of Mementos, the dirty glitter of Madarame's Palace. But he couldn't very well admit **that** , could he?_

_Instead, he gravely, if awkwardly agreed, "Yes. Lewd...shit."_

_"....Well, alright then. Uh. You hang tight, and I'll be right out."_

_Kanji opened one of the two doors that branched off from the apartment's small hall, then slipped inside. He attempted to close the door behind him, but the door did not seem to latch appropriately, and swung open again, just a crack. Through that crack, Yusuke watched carefully, spying a pair of clasped hands on a lap, and a short flurry of unidentifiable movement._

_Whispers poured through the door, and he trained his ears on them, undeniably curious._

_(( It's rude to eavesdrop on my host...but surely it is my duty to the Thieves to gather information, if it is presented to me. Chances are that all is well, but if it isn't...))_

_< "Yu. I've got a kid out there that.........ook at this.......it?">_

_(( So they **are** speaking of me? But-- ))_

_< "....that............what? .......I've **been** that, how......always liked the little guy, but........">_

_< "...don't know. But if.......">_

_< "Partner, we can't.........">_

_< "Leave it to me. This could have something to do with........and if that's the case--">_

_(( With what? Don't tell me that they **do** recognize Nekomata from....no, impossible. ))_

_The door opened, and Yusuke slouched, trying to look like he had not been listening. Kanji reappeared, three other young men trailing behind him, all barely into their twenties. A very short, blue-haired one, and two others that, to his astonishment, Yusuke recognized._

_"You!"_

_The grey haired man blinked. "Yes, that's my name, but...Oh, I recognize you! You were in Shinjuku the other night, weren't you? With two others?"_

_Yusuke nodded slowly. "Yes, I was. Although I certainly didn't expect to find you here."_

_"Same." He sunk into an armchair, gesturing to his companion from the other evening, who perched on the overstuffed arm. He slung an arm around the brunette's waist before continuing cautiously, "So I hear that you met Kanji through an art project. For your boyfriend?"_

_"Yes, I...you may have seen him the other evening. The beautiful, dark haired one."_

_(( An inadequate description, but it will have to suffice for now. ))_

_"Yes, I remember him. Hard to forget that one, isn't it? Naoto, he's the one that I....hm. Would you?" He directed the question to the blue haired boy, who until then had remained silent, watching the conversation play out as he leaned against a wall._

_"Of course." Naoto pushed himself from the wall, but remained standing. He walked slowly to the window, and pushed aside one patchwork curtain, staring into the distance. "Kitagawa-kun, this may seem like an odd question, but bear with me. Have you been experiencing anything...abnormal, with your television set?"_

_Yusuke blinked. That had certainly come out of left field. "The news has been a little strange, I suppose, but other than that...no, I can't say that I have."_

_Naoto nodded. "I see. And on the topic of the news, you say you've noticed that it is odd. What in particular has struck your interest? I confess that I've been intrigued by recent events myself."_

_"I..." He wasn't sure what to say. Anything regarding what he'd found genuinely alarming would concern their activities as Phantom Thieves. Finally, he settled upon something that should be obvious. Related, but perhaps safely so. "My former mentor, Madarame. It was...alarming to bear witness to his news cycle, and to see it play out for outside eyes."_

_From the armchair, the brunette mumbled, "So he's **that** kid. Your first name **is** Yusuke, right?"_

_Yusuke nodded. "It is." Hoping to break away from the questions, he pressed the topic of introductions. "And what should I call all of you?"_

_From his seat by the low table, Kanji's eyes widened. "Shit, I'm sorry, I should have done that." He pointed at each of his friends in turn. "That's Yu Narukami, and Yosuke Hanamura. We met in high school, back in Inaba, but they're both from here in the city. And that..." He smiled, happily but awkwardly, "Is my boyfriend, Mr. Detective Prince Naoto Shirogane."_

_(( " **Detective** Prince?!" I fear I've made a horrible mistake in coming here! If...if we are **investigated** , I--! ))_

_Yusuke fumbled for his phone, still listening to the conversation play out._

_**Yusuke** : Akira, nothing is...terribly wrong, but I believe I need an excuse to leave. Could you call me in a few minutes?_

_Shirogane blushed. "Please, Kanji, you need to stop introducing me that way. I haven't filled that role for quite some time now."_

_**Akira** : What? Are you all right? Of course, I can do that._

_Placing his phone back in his pocket, he heard Hanamura speak up, mirthfully, "Oh, c'mon now Naoto. No new city pretty-boy is ever going to fill your shoes."_

_Narukami nodded seriously. "You'll always be "the" Detective Prince to me."_

_"You guys..." Shirogane coughed, then redirected his attention to a very flustered and unhappy Yusuke. "I apologize if I was prying. I simply wanted to know.."_

_He trailed off, glancing at Narukami. The grey haired boy appeared to think for a moment, then gave a single, sharp nod._

_Eyes piercing, carefully watching Yusuke's every reaction, the detective spoke slowly and clearly. "This word may mean nothing to you, but, please listen carefully. Have you ever heard the word "Persona?"_

_"Wh...what?" Yusuke's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. How could this be? Had he ruined things for everyone, somehow baring too much, to just the wrong person?_

_(( What have I done?! This was meant to be a simple outing, and now I've--! ))_

_Shirogane's eyes narrowed. "From your reaction, I'd say that you have. That's...concerning."_

_"Concerning? Concerning how?" Yusuke felt backed into a corner, his mouth dry. The rest of the group seemed to sense his fear, because they immediately moved to soothe him._

_Kanji spoke up, slowly and apologetically. "I'm sorry to spring this on ya. But after I saw that picture, I had to know, y'know? We're not out to get ya. Haven't things been fine so far?"_

_Yusuke struggled to control his hammering heart. It was true. Kanji had been nothing but gruffly kind to him, and the rest of them seemed cautious and inquisitive, but friendly. No one was blocking the door. He could leave right now, if he so desired._

_And the home a person has built for themselves is often a reflection of their own character. This home was clearly packed full of the labors of love and creative passion. On that basis alone, he wanted to trust them, but doubted his own instincts._

_(( I wish...I wish Akira was here, to offer advice, to buffer, but-- ))_

_His heart clenched, remembering the last time Akira had felt forced to come between him and danger._

_(( No. I can solve this. I won't dump more problems in his lap now, not without at least **attempting** to fix them myself. I did this, and I'll protect him from it. ))_

_Hanamura leaned his head on Narukami's arm, watching him fight to regain his composure. "It's true. We're just worried about you, and your friends. In our experience..." His eyes gained a faraway quality. "Where these things are, there's danger too."_

_"In **your** experience?!"_

_(( Is he saying...? Surely he isn't-- ))_

_Narukami nodded, looking him in the eyes. "Yes. We were once Persona users. So let us ask you again...is there anything strange about your television set?" The impact of his first statement hit Yusuke like a brick to the chest, and the second left him dizzy with the sheer nonsense of it._

_"Why do you continue to ask me about television? I have no idea what you're talking about!"_

_"I believe he's telling the truth. About that much, at least." Shirogane slowly settled onto a chair, sighing. "Listen. I can't force you to tell me what's happening in Tokyo, and I don't want to. But if there is something--and if you are caught up in it, along with anyone else--you are surely aware of the danger. Wouldn't it be helpful to have support?"_

_At that moment, Yusuke's phone rang with its standard, preloaded ((Dinggg! Ding-dingg!)), and Yusuke scrambled for it like a lifeline._

_"I...I'm sorry, I must take this." He hurriedly accepted the call, pressing the cellphone to his ashen face. "Yes, Akira?"_

_Akira's voice was calm, and steadying, and helped Yusuke to regain the reins on his panic._

<< _"Hey, Yusuke. Sorry to bother you when you're out having fun, but something's come up here at the cafe. Could you come home?"_ >>

_"Yes, of course, gladly! I'll be there as soon as I can."_

<< _"Great. Thanks a lot, and see you in a bit."_ >>

_They said their goodbyes, and Yusuke hung up, then began backing slowly toward the door, gathering his purchases with the strongest heave he could muster. "I...I apologize everyone, but as you see, I must be going. The train station isn't far, and I--ah, thank you for your kindness, Tatsumi-san, but farewell!" He made to turn, heart hammering._

_"Yusuke. Let one of us drive you back. Hey, **wait, dammit!** " Yusuke froze despite himself at Kanji's shout._

_Hanamura grumbled, "Kanji, yelling at him isn't going to help."_

_"Right...sorry..." He leaned back, shaking his head at myself. "I'm sorry. But seriously. We're not gonna bite you. If you don't wanna talk about that shit, that's fine. Nobody gets that more than us, right?"_

_The rest of the room nodded seriously. "Yeah, we get it." "Hell, nobody believed us even when we tried to tell them."_

_"But...." Yusuke wavered uncertainly. They had all been kind, Kanji especially. And despite his blunt demeanor, he'd felt a strange kinship with him. Like they shared similar souls, as dramatic as the sentiment felt._

_He listened as Kanji continued. "There's no way you're draggin' all of that shit back on your own. And you still needed help with your project, didn't ya? You already told me where you live, so it's not like it's a secret you gotta guard."_

_(( **I did?!** ....I did. But I couldn't have **known** that...oh no. ))_

_"No, I--I'm perfectly all right, I can--" Yusuke's arms quaked from the weight, and one bag slipped, dumping half of its contents to the floor with a tinny clatter. Kanji looked supremely unimpressed._

_Rising from the armchair, Narukami helped him gather up the spilled supplies. "A project, huh? What are you working on?"_

_Kanji answered with genuine interest. "He's got a cool little contraption in mind. I think he'll have the artsy shit down pat, but when it comes to putting together the rest of the kit--"_

_"Kit? Like a model kit?" Narukami's eyes lit up. "I'm not too bad with those myself. I'd be glad to help!"_

_"Uhh, not quite like what you're thinking, senpai...."_

_"Still..." Bright grey eyes turned to Yusuke, and he felt something calm there. Steady, and safe. His breathing slowed, panic abating despite himself. "I promise, I'll drop the Persona issue. This can genuinely be two new friends, putting together a model. I feel bad for chasing you off like this, when you only came here for help. Let me make it up to you. At least allow me to give you a ride home."_

_"I..." Yusuke fretted. "Let me ask." It felt like a cop out, leaving the decision up to Akira. But part of him wanted to allow this, as curiosity and suspicion battled for dominance in his mind, and he didn't want to bring someone into their home without checking with him._

_Yusuke dialed Akira's number. He picked up immediately._

<< _Yusuke? You all right? Are you on your way?_ >>

_"I have a....potential change in plans, but I won't proceed unless you agree to it. May I bring someone back with me? He wishes to help me with my project, but....on top of that, I think it is important that you meet him again."_

<< _ **Again?** What do you mean? _>>

_"We saw him once before, at the booth of that young woman who was reading tarot in Shinjuku. I'd tell you more, but...perhaps that is a conversation better had in person. Or...or in text, on the way home."_

<< ** _Really? You found him?!_** >>

_Yusuke was astonished by Akira's enthusiasm over the potential meeting, and the guilty pit in his stomach began to unravel. "Yes, it turns out that he is lodging with Kanji--ah--Tatsumi-san for a short while. I can fill you in more via text while he drives."_

<< _You, on a first name basis already? That's a strong recommendation. Yeah, please do that. I trust your judgement, Yusuke. See you in a while then?_ >>

_"I'll be there soon."_

_Together, Yusuke and Narukami trudged downstairs in an uncomfortable silence. His new companion watched him, but not unkindly, seeming content to wait until he was comfortable enough to speak on his own._

_Narukami's vehicle was a nondescript white station wagon, noticeably dented on the front bumper, parked in a small, crowded lot behind the apartment. They dumped the bags in the rear, and Narukami held a door open for Yusuke, gesturing inside. "Pretty boring, huh? It's a hand me down from my uncle. It's pretty old. Basically holding itself together with duct tape and sheer willpower, but...I like it."_

_"Your uncle? Are you close with him, then?" Yusuke slid into the passenger seat, the battered fabric seat of which was, indeed, patched up with duct tape._

_"Mmhm. He's a cop back home in Inaba. I lived with him for a while, and honestly, he became more like a parent to me than my actual parents."_

_"I see."_

_(( Close with a detective **and** a police officer? This situation is only growing more ominous. But still, he exudes this aura of understanding and steadiness. I...I don't know. ))_

_As the car rolled out of the gravel parking lot, Yusuke pulled out his phone, leaning against the door to angle the screen away from the driver. He sent Akira a text, needing reassurance._

_**Yusuke** : Perhaps this is a conversation best had in the group chat. I'm afraid I'm in a bit over my head._

_**Akira** : Don't tell me he's another member of your "fan club?"_

_**Yusuke** : Ahh...not quite._

_**Akira** : I'm joking, Yusuke. But yeah, go for it._

_He thumbed his way to another screen._

_**Yusuke** : Everyone? I'm afraid I've found myself in a bit of a situation._

_**Ryuji** : What, your fan club again?_

_(( Why does everyone insist on bringing that up?! ))_

_**Akira** : That's what *I* asked._

_**Ryuji** : Akira!! Hey, why weren't you answering your messages, man?_

_**Akira** : Sorry, my phone was off, and then I got distracted with breakfast. But I'm here now._

_**Ann** : Arent we a little off track? Yusuke?_

_**Yusuke** : So, I will put it bluntly: I am in a car, heading to Leblanc...with someone who claims to be a former Persona user._

_The phone exploded._

_**Ann** : what?!?a! yusuke are you ok? What is happening??_

_**Ryuji** : and I thought it was bad when I got us caught by Nijima senpai at school_

_**Ann** : it WAS bad, you idiot!_

_**Ann** : wvegquegveh3y33b d e7262ygedff_

_**Ann** : that was Morgana screaming, btw._

_Akira was conspicuously absent from the outburst, and Yusuke fretted, passing his phone from hand to hand. Narukami's eyes darted over to him, looking genuinely concerned. "You okay there?"_

_"It's fine, I...I don't feel that I am making a mistake, bringing you with me, but I fear it all the same."_

_"I see. Well, I hope I won't prove you wrong when it comes to trusting your instincts. Do I turn here?"_

_"Yes, to the right. And then right again, a few blocks up."_

_His phone buzzed. Akira had finally replied._

_**Akira** : That guy...he's a Persona user?_

_**Yusuke** : Formerly, he claimed. As well as his companions._

_**Akira** : Well that might explain it..._

_**Ryuji** : explain what? None of this makes any friggin sense_

_**Ann** : I'm heading out the door to Leblanc right now, ok? I was going anyway, but....yeah. hold tight guys. Ryuji, you too?_

_**Ryuji** : dammit! I feel so lame, but my ma won't let me out and the house today with my knee the way it is. I'm sorry guys_

_**Akira** : it's okay, you should rest. We can handle this. Ann, you probably don't need to storm the gates or anything. I didn't get a bad vibe from the guy._

_Yusuke felt a surge of relief. Had his instinct not been wrong, then?_

_**Yusuke** : I feel the same way. I know it's alarming, but..._

_**Yusuke** : Regardless, he's promised to stop pressing the subject if necessary. He may simply help me with my project and be gone. I just wanted you to be aware._

_**Akira** : No, thank you for telling me. I might have done the same thing. Well, maybe not brought him *home,* but..._

_**Ann** : More Persona users, huh? I guess it makes sense that we wouldn't be the only ones._

_**Ryuji** : how many more of these guys are out there? you all tell me what happens, ok? I don't wanna get left behind in this._

_**Akira** : We will. Definitely. This affects all of us._

_**Yusuke** : For that matter, I would be remiss not to mention something equally concerning. One of his companions, also possibly a Persona user, was referred to as a "Detective Prince?"_

_**Ann** : what?! Not that smarmy Akechi guy from TV?!_

_**Ryuji** : holy shit dude, yeah, definitely something you want to mention!! How????_

_**Yusuke** : No, his name was Shirogane. Although there was some talk of another, possibly newer "Detective Prince." Perhaps this is who you are thinking of?_

_**Ann** : must be. But a detective? That's not good. If he was a Persona user though..._

_**Akira** : there's an "Akechi guy" on TV?_

_**Ryuji** : even I know about that guy, man. Do you not watch the news?_

_**Akira** : apparently not enough_

_**Ryuji** : he's kind of a dick. You know he was badmouthing us the other day? Some shit like, "ooh, I doubt the PTs are real, but if they are they probably suck."_

_**Ann** : ....that's quite the paraphrase. But yeah, basically._

_**Akira** :  Neat._

_**Yusuke** : Regardless, the man I encountered was someone different. Still, I thought you should all know. Akira I'm about 10 minutes away._

_**Akira** : I'll make coffee._

_**Ann** : Ooh yes please! Me too??_

_**Akira** : Of course._

_Yusuke darkened his phone, directing Narukami toward Yongen-Jaya. "I hope you enjoy coffee. Apparently you have already earned a tentative seal of approval from Akira."_

_"Well that's good news. And yes, I got a taste for it while living with my uncle. Nothing like having an adorable grade schooler make you coffee in the morning and staring at you, waiting for you to drink it, to force you to learn to like something bitter really quickly."_

_"Well, coffee and....other things." He shuddered at some private memory._

_"Narukami-san?"_

_"Please, just call me Yu. I think I speak for all of us when I say that there's no need to be formal. We're a pretty easy going group, you know."_

_"When you arent interrogating new acquaintances."_

_Yu winced. "Sorry about that. You have to understand why we'd be interested, though."_

_"I do. I admit I'm quite curious as well."_

_With Akira's cautious approval bolstering him, Yusuke allowed himself to feel a hint of excitement. They'd all come into their powers on their own, and although Morgana did his best as their guide, he, too, was consumed by searching for answers. Having a mentor--at that thought he paused, cautioning himself._

_(( I cannot let myself fall into old habits. Though they may have experience, that does not mean that they are safe or infallible. ))_

_"The cafe is down that alley, but you'll need to park over there."_

_"Got it."_

_They'd arrived, just as the sky darkened. It seemed the weather was changing._

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

Akira busied himself preparing coffee, finally pouring the pot into a large portable carafe. He felt airy, torn between nervous excitement over meeting the grey haired stranger again, exhaustion at the idea of the cafe being flooded with people for him to entertain...and irritation over the information about his new acquaintance.

_Maybe it is a different Akechi._

_...._

_I'd be fooling myself to say that, wouldn't I? He picked apart my head, then left to go to a "speaking engagement." It has to be him._

_...._

_He didn't seem like a smarmy asshole. A weirdo, maybe. It's possible that he has a different way of carrying himself on television._

_...._

_Today is just full of mistakes, isn't it?_

He'd kept one eye trained on the news ever since, but so far, all he'd seen was the weather forecast, calling for an afternoon of thunder storms.

The doorbell jingled, and Ann dashed through, panting like she'd been running. "Am I too late?! Did I miss anything?"

From behind the counter, Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Nothing except for this kid brewing enough coffee to quench an army. What's going on, anyway?"

"Just a friend coming over."

Ann walked over to him, then placed a hand on his elbow.  Quietly, she said, "Those shirts are in your school bag.  Akira, are you really okay with this?  Here?  Tonight?"

Outside, thunder rumbled, and the sky grew unnaturally dark. Reflexively, Akira crossed the cafe to open a window. He'd always liked the smell of a good storm. The earth refreshing itself.  He turned to Ann and shrugged, as if to say, _"When_ _ **would**_ _be a good day for this?"_

"What're you doing, kid? If it rains, that's gonna soak the seat there."

"Oh. Sorry, Boss, I'll close it."

Eyeing him, Sakura shook his head. "No, it's fine for now. I guess this old place could use a little fresh air. I'll get it later if it becomes a problem."

"Thanks. Sorry, I just like the rain." He turned to Ann, then, and by proxy, Morgana, who peered from the bag. "You didn't miss anything. Yusuke should be here any minute though. Can you help me carry some coffee upstairs? Boss said it is fine as long as we clean up after."

"Better up there than cluttering up the cafe down here. Although, if it rains..." Sakura opened the cafe door, peering out. One fat droplet landed on his nose, and he scowled, brushing it off with the back of his hand. "...then I might as well close up early. Nobody's coming to a place like this in a storm."

He frowned then, staring out into the cloud-darkened streets. "Then again....oh, no, that's only Yusuke. Kid, you'd better hurry if you're going to miss the rain!"

"Yes, Sakura-san, I--aaaah!" A crash and a clatter sounded outside the cafe, and Akira poked his head outside to see Yusuke scrambling to gather an astonishing array of items back into a large plastic bag.

The grey haired man from Shinjuku stooped beside him, setting his own burden down carefully to help. Yusuke glanced up at Akira, and then waved him back inside the cafe. "Akira! Don't look, I still intend this to be a surprise! Please, just give me a moment. Ahh!"

As the pair rose, the sky opened in a sudden deluge. They scrambled inside, then shook rain from their bags. The new arrival peered out into the alley from the safety of the warm cafe, eyes distant. "A storm, huh? For me, whenever it rained, it always seemed like trouble was never far behind."

Akira spoke up, reaching for one of Yusuke's bags. "Not a fan of the rain?" Yusuke shook his head, clutching the bag to his chest. Baffled, Akira shrugged, allowing him to keep it.

The half-stranger smiled a little himself, his eyes crinkling. "I wouldn't say that. Trouble can be a little exciting, can't it?"

Sakura huffed, watching this play out. "As long as you're not dragging it into my cafe, I don't care. Shut that door, and get upstairs. I'm going to lock up. I need to go check on...." He trailed off for a moment. "....the house. Might have left a window open or something."

Sakura hung up his apron, grabbed an umbrella from the back, turned off the lights to the main cafe, and then headed out into the storm. Akira watched him go, marvelling at the fact that he'd had enough trust to leave them all alone in the cafe.

Without Sakura around to see him downstairs, Morgana leapt from the bag on Ann's shoulder, stretching luxuriously. "Wow, it's good to be out of that bag. My legs are killing me."

The thieves watched in genuine shock as the grey haired man's eyes widened in astonishment, and he slowly turned, whole-body, to stare at Morgana. "Is...is that so?"

**"Whaaaat?! Akira, did he just--?"**

**"Can this guy understand me? There's no way!"**

**"But that must mean..."**

"Your cat **talks**." He said it so calmly and assuredly that Akira couldn't help but doubt the newcomer's sanity.

Slowly, Akira answered, ".....Yes, but generally only we can understand him. To most other people his words sound like meows. How is it that you....?"

Pacing on the cafe floor, Morgana stared him down suspiciously, then darted toward the stairs. "We should finish this up here."

As the group followed him through the darkened cafe, Ann murmured, "This is too weird..."

The newcomer spoke up from behind Yusuke. "I really am talking to a cat. This is a dream come true...." He said it so completely deadpan that Akira couldn't be certain that he was serious.

From the top of the stairs, Morgana paused, and turned back, glaring. "I'm not a cat! If you're going to talk to me, you're going to have to get that straight."

Dropping his bags where Yusuke directed him to, just inside the curtain, the man apologized, then knelt on the floor in front of Morgana. "I'm sorry. Let me start over." He held out a hand for the not-cat to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ......?"

"Morgana." Morgana scowled slightly, but held one paw out, allowing the grey haired man to shake it.

"My name is Yu Narukami. Please just call me Yu."

Outside, the rain picked up, wind gusting and rattling the windows. Akira crossed the room to open those, too, sticking his tongue out at the crow that squawked suspiciously, guarding its nest. "You hush. I live here too, you know." A fine mist of rain spattered his arms, and he leaned out the window briefly despite the pain in his side from stretching, feeling refreshed. The attic had only grown more stifling the longer he'd been isolated in it that afternoon.

Dropping his own armful of purchases, then standing up, rubbing his arms, Yusuke added, "I suppose introductions are in order, if that is all right with everyone?"

Akira paused slightly, then nodded. "I'm Akira Kurusu. First names are fine by me."

"Ann Takamaki, and same." Ann placed the carafe of coffee on the desk, then sat on the edge of Akira's bed, staring in slight awe. "So you can understand Morgana. That means you really have been in the Metaverse..." She flopped back on the bed, her long hair spread out around her, looking overwhelmed. "This is way too much for me to handle right now."

"Metaverse?" Yu looked confused, and Akira spoke up to clarify.

"It's our term for that 'other world'. Do you...know what I mean by that, at least?"

"Yeah, I do. The world inside the television set."

From behind the curtain, between bursts of mysterious clattering, Yusuke spoke up with a hint of frustration, "You continue to mention "television" as though that should mean something to me, but it does not."

Yu frowned. "So it's different here. I guess that makes sense...those others experienced things differently too, from the scraps that I picked up."

"Others?" Akira poured everyone a cup of coffee, leaving Ann's on the desk, then dragged a cushion to his side of Yusuke's curtain, eyeing Yu curiously. "What do you mean by that?"

Yu accepted his and Yusuke's mug with a nod of thanks, then ducked behind the curtain, assisting Yusuke with his mysterious project while still speaking. "Sorry, just a sec. Just lay that out here, and--"

"....ah, no, I need this myself. Your half of the project would be--"

"....oh, I see. Do you have glue? And--Akira--there's a lot more going on in this world than you may realize. Does that surprise you?"

Did it? Yes and no, he supposed. He shouldn't be surprised by anything at this point, but the existence of others outside of their own little bubble was...alarming. It felt like the world they'd carved for themselves was opening, and in doing so, spiralling out of control.

He sipped his coffee, thinking. "I suppose not. So did you have...a team?"

"Mm, yeah. Yusuke, can you hand me that--no, the other ones, that's--" ((CLATTER)) "--oh, sorry, sorry, but I can--there we go. Sorry again. Yeah, I did. Of sorts, I mean, we weren't nearly as organized as we thought we were. Not compared to--ow, ow! That was my knee, ahh, a little help here?"

"Of course, just allow me to--there. But Yu, are you telling us that there are multiple teams of Persona users, existing in the world at this very moment?"

Akira looked down at Morgana, who was pacing the attic anxiously. "Morgana, is that possible?"

The not-cat paused in his roaming, looking frazzled. "How should I know? I guess there's no rule against it. But you guys are the only group I've ever run into."

From the bed, Ann groaned, "This seems impossible. How can it be this widespread, but still be a secret? I'd never heard of anything like this until I was pulled in."

"Pulled in?" Yu asked from behind the curtain, sounding like he had something in his mouth.

"Yeah," Ann continued, staring at the ceiling from around the crook of her arm. "Didn't you have to deal with Palaces?"

"Palaces?"

Akira sighed. This was spiralling out of control, but he didn't have the energy to control it. Or the desire, really. Ever since that moment of connection in the Shinjuku alley, Akira had felt like he knew Yu on some level. "It's hard to explain. Morgana?"

His eyes on Akira, silently communicating that he, too, felt like they were sharing an awful lot with this strange, calm man, Morgana muttered a bare bones explanation of what they understood about the operation of a Palace.

"Distortion, huh?" Yu murmured thoughtfully. "In a way, then I suppose most of my companions had something like that."

 **"WHAT?"** Ann sat straight up, visibly alarmed. "But you were all Persona users, right? How does that work?!"

"Well, they didn't have their Personas initially. They all had to meet and come to terms with their darker selves. After accepting their own shadows, they came into the ability."

"So it's like when we send shadows back to the person they belong to, after...." Akira trailed off, not wanting to allude to much more, or to mention names.

"Wait, we didn't give **_them_** Personas, did we?!" Ann shuddered, looking ill.

"Mm, I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to, but I think it would have to be a conscious decision on their part, so I doubt it could happen accidentally."

"So a Persona user is one with their shadow? I guess that confirms what we've wondered--that you can't have a Palace if you have a Persona."

Akira glanced at the curtain, a thought brewing, brow furrowed. "Does that mean a Persona user is _always_ united with their true self? Why are you a _former_ Persona user then? Did something happen?"

"Can I have those pliers, Yusuke? And then--oh, do you need help with that? That hole punch seems quite--"

"Ah, no, I have it, but thank you."

"Okay, just let me know...one second, Akira." The creaking of metal, and then of knees, as Yu emerged into the attic proper, dusting off his pants. "Quite a place you have here, by the way. It's certainly...unique."

Ann laughed awkwardly despite herself. "You should have seen it before I got my hands on it."

"A bit of a minimalist, are you?" He tilted his head inquisitively, and Akira shrugged. Accepting the non-explanation, Yu continued, "I wouldn't say that something _happened_....it's more like....Well, it has been nearly five years since my team was active. In the time since then, my memories, and my grip on my Personas has... _faded._ I honestly can't think of a better word for the feeling."

Akira's eyes met Yu's in a flash. " **Personas**? As in _plural_?"

Yu nodded. "Mmhm. You too, right? There's something about you. I can just tell."

With that, Akira admitted what he'd felt himself. "It's like I know you, even though I don't _know_ you."

"Whoa...." Ann leaned forward on the edge of the bed, eyes wide. Focus darting between the apparent pair of wild cards and her phone, where she was frantically texting Ryuji a play-by-play of the conversation, she murmured, "This is crazy. Then you aren't the only one, Akira?!"

_Not even special in **that**. Huh._

A flash of curiosity, and he gestured at Yu, turning his back to Ann. With one hand, he reached in front of his face, then mimed the appearance of a long, long nose. He raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

Yu's eyes widened, and then to Akira's shock, he laughed uproariously. "So it wasn't just me! My friends, they never..." he straightened his posture, mimed the action of adjusting a tie, and, with his chin held up, mimicked the words, _"Welcome to the Velvet Room....."_

Akira laughed aloud in pure, astonished joy. This... _this_ was something that it felt good to not be alone in. He wasn't entirely insane, at least not in this. The Velvet Room, _and_ its inhabitants, were **real**.

From the corner of his eye, Ann looked utterly befuddled. "Uhh, is this some kind of wild card inside joke?"

Face buried in one hand, Akira laughed, unable to restrain it despite how it agitated his side. "Pretty much. Wow, I thought I..."

"Was crazy? Yeah, me too." Yu shared his laughter, wiping a mirthful tear from the corner of his eye.

Doing the same, Akira had to say, "That was a _terrible_ impression though. I'd say it is more..." He hunched his shoulders, and in a deep baritone, uttered, **"Welcome to my Velvet Room...."**

Yu shook his head. " _What?_ And I've _practiced_ , too. I'm offended. You're clearly the bad actor here. I'll have you know that I was in the Theater Club in high school. Defer to your expert elder!"

"Never!"

They chuckled together for a moment, and Akira couldn't help feeling strangely light.

_This is adding to my ever growing list of 'the oddest days of my life'. I have so many questions for him, this is....hm, I should ask him **that** one, now that I think of it._

Settling gingerly into a cushion, and gesturing for Yu to join him on the floor, Akira asked, "So, Yu, maybe you know...is there a clear mark between our world and the Metaverse? Shadows can't just creep into reality, right?"

Yu offered him a very alarming, cringing smile. From behind Akira, Ann gasped, "No!"

Morgana just stared, his expression indiscernible.

Yu raised a hand in an awkward apology. His voice astonishingly level, he admitted, "Mmm, well, this won't be comforting, but actually one of my best friends is a shadow. He lives in my spare room."

**_\---?!?_ **

"He.... _excuse_ me?"

Ann flopped back on the bed again. "I feel faint."

"What? No, don't do that, I'm sorry, he's adorable, see?" Yu dug in his jeans for his phone, then scrolled through to his photo gallery.

Ann rolled to the side of the bed, peering over Akira's shoulder. "Is that...some kind of mascot? A bear?! It's kind of cute, but..." Morgana leapt up beside her, staring intently. Yusuke remained silent behind the curtain, apparently so thoroughly engrossed in his project now that he had faded from even this astonishing conversation.

Akira could only hope he was at least _listening_ , because this....whew.

As though it was the most normal thing in the world, the former wild card continued fondly, "Teddie used to be empty inside, but then he filled himself up, with this--" He scrolled over to another photo, this one of the stuffed mascot unzipped, and a tiny, blonde teenager popping out of it, arms spread wide. "He lives a pretty normal life now, all things considered."

Akira sunk back in his cushion. "A pretty....normal life. You don't say."

Ann looked both horrified and intrigued. "He's a shadow?! And he...he never tried to hurt you guys, or anything?"

"Well, he did bite me once. I still have a scar." He held out his hand for their examination, pointing to his ring finger, but to be honest, Akira could not see a thing. "He's usually gentle though, if a bit, uh...girl crazy. You'd certainly never call him...over _bear_ ing."

_Was that supposed to be a pun?_

_....it was awful._

"Why does the girl-craziness remind me of someone..." Ann's eyes wandered to the not-cat standing over her arm.

Morgana scowled, clearly offended. "Hey, don't compare me to that! I'm not a shadow, or a cat, or anything else. I'm a human."

Quietly, Yu nodded, in unison with Akira's own affirmation of his friend's personhood. "Yeah, you are." Akira met his eyes, and Yu smiled in understanding.

_He's...so he's dealt with this too._

Yu's phone buzzed, and he checked it, then shook his head with an air of mild amusement. "Looks like I'm wanted back at home."

_**Now?** But I....I still have questions._

_This has gotten pretty out of control though. It is probably a smart idea to put this on pause._

With that thought in mind, Akira just nodded. "It was good to meet you again."

From around the curtain, a blue head emerged, Yusuke still crouched on the floor. "Already? Well, thank you for your assistance. I should be able to finish this on my own."

_So Yusuke **was** still listening..._

"Mmhm. The others are threatening to cook dinner themselves if I don't head back soon, and if that happens, I may not survive. Listen..." Yu turned to Akira, grey eyes serious. "Yosuke and I are only in town for another week, but you can have my number. And Kanji and Naoto live here full time. I can understand wanting to play some things close to your chest. We did the same. But if you ever need support..."

Akira nodded slightly, almost certain that he actually meant it. "Thanks. I will."

"See you around, then."

"Bye, Yu!" "Farewell, Narukami-san!"

A few thudded footsteps, a jingle, and the former wild card exited into the rain.

Ann and Akira stared at each other in silence. What more could they say in that moment, other than, "Wow...." "Um, yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely some Palace foreshadowing... 🤔


	44. Ephemeral Rainbows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their trip to the Planetarium may have been postponed by necessity, but Yusuke has something else up his sleeve.
> 
> Enjoy this bit of happy before the angst train rolls back in full-force. :')

_[[ Akira's eyes slowly came into focus, and with a groan upon realizing where he was, he closed them. To no avail, as a tiny arm whipped a baton across the bars of his cell with a vigor that would have been shocking if he hadn't been expecting it._

_"Get **up** , inmate!"_

_Rubbing his face in exhaustion, he pulled himself off of the damp prison cot, his feet falling to the floor with a ((splash))._

_(( Wait....damp? What? ))_

_Pulling his bare feet back onto the cot, he sat cross-legged, staring down at about two inches of water on the floor of his Velvet Room cell._

_(( Did the toilet flood? That's...gross. ))_

_He wrinkled his nose in disgust._

**_"INMATE! Your attention!"_ **

_"Yeah, yeah....I know, Caroline, but..." Eyeing the dark, stagnant water, Akira scooted to the end of the cot, turning to face the bars. Hopefully that would be close enough for the wardens, because he didn't relish the thought of spending his sleeping hours ankle-deep in what had to be toilet backflow._

_Shivering in his tattered prison stripes, he forced himself to raise his head and look Igor in the eye. "Why am I here tonight?"_

_Igor leaned across his desk, a look of devouring interest spread across his unsmiling face. "Why are you ever here? I'm merely observing your progress, Trickster. The game remains the same."_

_At that, something in Akira snapped. Disregarding the water, he slipped his legs over the edge of the cot, splashing over to grip the bars of his cage. He barely made it, one leg dragging behind him, weighted by his iron chain. **"A game?! This isn't a game, this is--"**_

**_[[ ...........a door slammed shut, a hand, a camera's flash, a.... ]]_ **

**_"This has never been a game!"_ **

**_[[ ....Ryuji, unmoving on a polished marble floor. Ann, slipping through the air. A glint of metal, crushed into blue hair.....]]_ **

_" **SILENCE, INMATE!** How dare you speak to our master like that?!" The flash of a baton, and he gripped the bars tighter despite the pain from Caroline's strike._

_"Sister....." Justine looked on, clenching her own baton at her side. Her eyes slid away._

_Ignoring the twins, and his own bleeding knuckles, Akira continued to stare Igor down. He'd had enough. And knowing what he knew now--_

_"There are others! **Have** been others--other wild cards, other entrances into this...this cognitive reality. This isn't an anomaly. I'm not alone in this! I'm not some....some lone Trickster, the only one who can play this sick "game." So **why**?"_

_His heart shrank at the level stare he received from the creature at the desk. Nothing discernible had changed in Igor's expression, but there was something...some aura of menace._

_Slowly, as though it were speaking to a least favorite child, Igor answered, "That information was not necessary to your rehabilitation, Trickster. It is for that which I am guiding you, and for no other purpose."_

_"But....but I feel like I've been falling through this blindly. How am I supposed to do this when I am completely ignorant to what is happening in the rest of the world?"_

_"It is your purpose to come to your own conclusions about your place in this world. That is all that I will say on the matter. And, as for your previous question..."_

_Finally, Igor smiled._

_"You are the only player suitable for this game. **You are alone.** " ]]_

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Akira stretched his legs out in a booth downstairs, idly flipping through a crossword puzzle while picking at breakfast with Yusuke, who had just returned from an early morning dip in the public bath.

_I need one myself. Should have gone right when they opened, to avoid other people. But a few minutes in the bathroom with a washcloth will work, I guess._

He felt grimy, and achy, and absolutely not in the mood for the battery of questions being leveled at him by the pristine, gorgeous boy before him who kept forgetting about his breakfast to ask him things like:

"What is your _least_ favorite color?"

"Um. Yellow."

"I see...any  _shade_ of yellow in particular?  Goldenrod?  Lemon?  Mustard?"

"The...bright kind?  Neon, I guess."

"What is the first thing that crosses your mind upon awakening?"

"Coffee."

"Was it always that way?"

"No. It used to be 'more sleep please,' but I've clearly grown into a healthier mindset these last few months."

From behind the counter, a sharp, "Hey!" rang out. Sakura glowered half-heartedly, one hand on his hip. "I may have introduced you to proper coffee, but you can't blame me for your habit of calling it a meal. I feed you plenty."

Groaning out an apology, Akira lifted a spoonful of curry toward the man. "And it's delicious. Thanks, Boss."

"Hmph."

It was far too large of a spoonful, but he was committed now. Under Sakura's watchful eye, Akira shoveled about three mouthfuls of curry into his face. Sakura turned away, then, seeming satisfied.

"Akira?" Yusuke drew his attention again, just as a stream of curry trickled down his chin.

_I....am so attractive. How could he **not** have fallen for me?_

Akira wiped it away, then covered his mouth with his hand as he struggled to both chew and reply without choking to death.

"Y...mmmmphgggg....yes, Yusuke?"

_Jesus Christ, Akira._

Yusuke seemed content to ignore his brush with culinary death, but also appeared to have something on his mind. "I apologise for the interrogation. If it is bothering you, I can...."

_Shit. I've been short, haven't I? I'm running on fumes, but that's no excuse._

Akira shook his head, holding up a finger to ask Yusuke to wait a moment while he washed down the rest of his breakfast with coffee. "Aaah. Sorry. Okay. No, you're not bothering me Yusuke. Not really. I'm just not sure where all of this is coming from."

Yusuke smiled and held his hands out in a shrug, a move Akira was pretty sure the artist had learned from Ann. "It's a mystery. But one more, if I may?"

"I...."

_Be a good sport, Akira. You've already had to bail on your first actual date, and he's decided to stay, stuck here with you._

"Of course. What is it?"

Hands idly rearranging the booth's supply of napkins and cutlery into some indiscernible pattern, Yusuke asked, "What did you like to eat, before curry became your staple?"

"Umm...." Akira had to think far back. It had been a while since his "favorite foods" were a relevant thought.

"Mmmm, once or twice a year I liked to go all out with the sweet stuff, enough to make myself sick of it, honestly. With Ann and her crepes, I've gotten more than my fix of that for the season. But other than that, I guess I mostly stuck to savory?"

Akira felt torn between smiling at the memory that came to mind, and frowning at its loss. But with his boyfriend gently awaiting his answer, he did his best to go with the smile.

"Sometimes, when I was really little, we'd...we'd go fishing together. Out in the woods, where it was quiet and s--" He nearly said 'safe', but changed words mid-way.

_I need to remove that term from my vocabulary._

"--peaceful. From that, I really developed a taste for smoked fish!" Remembering the satisfaction of tiny, slightly singed hands picking apart fish he'd cooked himself, his smile grew more genuine. "Aaah, it's been forever since I had that!"

Yusuke leaned across, apparently putting the finishing touches on his tableware masterpiece. "Ah, the pastoral beauty of a simple countryside meal! I, myself, would love to see such a thing!"

"What about you? I take it that you never had the chance to forage in the wild?"

"Well, I did eat grass once, but I'm not certain that counts." Before Akira could fully parse that alarming statement, Yusuke laid down a fork in the center of the booth with a dramatic flourish, clearly awaiting his reaction.

Akira turned his head, and suddenly, he could see it. "It's a...dog, right?"

"No...." Yusuke shook his head gravely, readjusting the pieces. "It is Sakura-san."

**"HEY!"**

Despite himself, Akira snickered at his guardian's annoyance, a laugh that grew as Yusuke joined in. It warmed him as thoroughly as the summer breeze wafting in through the cafe's open windows, still touched by the scent of the previous evening's rain.

"Tch, kids. Akira! If you've got this much energy, help me carry a table outside from the back. I want to set up a patio seat, now that the weather's nice again."

_A table? If I'm careful, it should be fine, I think. The outdoor tables Ann and I dragged out of the attic weren't **that** heavy._

Across from him, Yusuke looked anxious. Before Akira could answer, he volunteered, "Oh, why not allow me to assist you, Sakura-san? I'm certain that I could help you to arrange it in a most visually pleasing manner."

_Thanks, Yusuke._

But Sakura shook his head. "Yeah, thanks kid, but I'm not looking to spend an hour 'perfecting my aesthetic.' Akira will do."

"I....my apologies, I could restrain myself--"

Akira laid a hand over one of Yusuke's, stilling him. "It's okay, I've got it."

_He tried, but there's 'protesting,' and then there's 'protesting too much.'_

Akira rose while offering Yusuke what he hoped was a comforting nod, then trailed after his guardian to the small strip of yard behind the cafe. There, under a pair of large tarps, was the more salvageable junk he and Ann had removed from the attic, along with the aforementioned patio furniture.

Sakura pointed at a round, glass-topped table. "You get that, and I'll grab these two chairs. Wipe it down after for me, would you?"

"Sure thing, Boss." He lifted the table, and while it was heavier than it looked, he could manage it.

_Better than I thought I could, actually. It hurts, but at least I know I'm functional._

"Hey, kid...."

"Hm?" Akira paused, looking back, and saw that Sakura still stood near the junk pile, watching him with an indecipherable expression.

Awkwardly and cautiously, his guardian asked, "You, uh...doing any better? You kind of worried me yesterday."

_Okay, this was fine to carry for a minute, but if I'm stuck standing here talking--ow--ahh..._

Trying to offset the weight by balancing part of the table on his left hip, Akira nodded confidently. "Yeah, I am. You helped a lot, and I'm sure it was just a one time thing."

"Is that so?" Sakura looked unconvinced, and his eyes trailed to Akira's straining shoulders. "You know, you should really be lifting that with your legs, not just your arm strength. That's the other thing...I noticed yesterday, but it seems like you're favoring your side a little there."

_Shit. Damn it Boss, no no no_

Akira did his best to not allow the stress of Sakura's unwanted scrutiny to show on his face, as he leaned into the script he'd gained from Iwai.

He smiled, forcing himself to hoist the table higher. "Huh? Oh, it's nothing, just a little sore."

"Well what'd you do to it?" Sakura frowned slightly at his efforts.

_Am I overdoing it?_

_....Why does he even care?!_

"Mmm, just being a teenage idiot I guess."

Sakura seemed poised to dig deeper, when the window from the rear of the kitchen slid open above their heads, and Yusuke's face appeared. His eyes met Akira's for just a moment before he exclaimed in apparent delight, "Sakura san! I've been meaning to ask your permission to experiment with the espresso machine! Akira showed me this delightful latte art, and I... "

Sakura's eyes widened. "W--wait, don't you touch my kitchen yet, I haven't trained you! Just sit at the counter, I'll be there in a minute."

He dropped the chairs with a double metallic ((clang)), then wiped his hands on his pants, rushing down the alley. "If that's how it is, you can take it from here, right? I've got to make sure your, uh, boyfriend doesn't wreck my kitchen."

_So he **has** caught on fully. I wasn't sure, but that's...kind of a weight off, to be honest._

The moment Sakura's back was turned, Akira shed another weight, setting the table down and sinking to sit on a small concrete slab behind the cafe. He glanced up at the window, but Yusuke had already retreated. Faintly, he could hear Sakura beginning to give his boyfriend the same spiel about flavor profiles and brewing techniques he'd given him, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

_Thanks, Yusuke. And sorry..._

Yusuke had somehow managed to run interference for him, but he knew it wouldn't last if he took much longer to rest.

_Besides...if I can't get myself to set up a patio table, how the hell am I supposed to infiltrate a Palace tomorrow?_

That was what he'd decided, after all. Hefting the table again, Akira remembered his friends' protests. That he needed to give himself more time, that there was no reason to jump in so quickly. But he couldn't wait...or, rather, he couldn't bear to tell them the reason why he needed to start as soon as possible.

That morning, he'd awoken to a text from an unknown number. Just three things--a clock emoji, the yen symbol, and the cropped upper fifth of a photograph that had made Akira run downstairs to the bathroom out of certainty that he was going to vomit. He hadn't, but that hadn't made the message any easier to take in.

Akira was working under a deadline, and Kaneshiro wanted him to know it.

_....damn it....I...._

He was going in. He was going into the Palace tomorrow, whether he was ready or not, regardless of if anyone else was willing to follow, because there was absolutely no way he could handle seeing another fifth of that picture.

**_[[ .................. ]]_ **

Akira placed the table under the windowboxes outside of Leblanc's front door, then went back for the chairs, throwing himself into the task fully now that he lacked an audience, and needed something to distract his mind.

He placed them well enough, he thought, standing back to survey his work. Boss was right that they needed to be wiped down, though. Trudging back into the cafe, he smiled at the sight of Yusuke behind the counter, wearing the apron he usually used himself.

His hand over his face, Sakura grumbled, "Kid, you don't need to put that much of a....flourish in it. It's a simple coffee."

Walking into the kitchen to scrounge for cleaning supplies, Akira nudged Yusuke with his elbow, glancing at the coffee he was brewing.

_How many different beans did he blend together for that?! There are at least six bags open on the counter. Uhh..._

Containing his bemusement, he asked, "Make me one, will you? I can tell you're putting some....love into it."

Yusuke lit up, gesturing wide-armed to his results. "Of course! You are welcome to be the first to test the fruits of my labors! It'll only be a moment."

Behind him, Sakura shook his head slowly in dismay, then raised an eyebrow at Akira, as if to say, _"It's your funeral, kid."_

A little more of a spring in his step, Akira made short work of wiping down the patio furniture, then came back inside, taking his favorite seat at the counter. It was funny being on the other side of this, watching Yusuke bustle around, clinking coffee mugs and scattering beans.

_Regardless of how well he's doing brewing the coffee, he sure looks pretty doing it._

"You're really settling into your role, Yusuke." Akira laughed, watching his boyfriend dig through a cupboard for a mug, as apparently Leblanc's standard wouldn't suffice.

Finally selecting a slightly battered tea cup in a white and royal blue floral pattern, Yusuke poured Akira a cup of coffee, smiling. "Indeed. I've exhausted what remains of my pocket money, and Sakura-san has agreed to allow me to train today, so that I may replenish it. And, with any hope, I shall learn a new skill along the way!" He slid the cup across the counter to Akira, clearly eagerly awaiting his reaction.

Akira stared down at the steaming concoction before him. It looked...strangely heavy and murky. He suddenly did not need caffeine nearly as badly as he'd thought.

_How does a person even do this to coffee?_

Yusuke leaned across the counter, adjusting the teacup so that the handle faced Akira's dominant hand. "Knowing your preferences, I made it as strong as possible. Also, I hoped that giving it a more...solid constitution would make it more of a meal. I look forward to your thoughts. I--as you said--I put a lot of love into it."

_Oh no. Now I **have** to drink this._

_It's...it's for love._

Sakura watched this play out from a corner, clearly amused.

Akira steeled himself, raised the cup, and forced himself to take a drink. Then, resisting the urge to gag, he chewed. And then there was the aftertaste. Was this....how could coffee be spicy?!

_This is....oh god no, **what is this**?_

"What do you think? Surely unique, is it not?"

Around the gritty mystery that he'd allowed in his mouth, Akira stammered, beginning to sweat, voice oddly high pitched, "U--unique is a word for it, mmhm! Yusuke--um--ah--" He coughed, setting the cup down with a trembling hand. "Wh--what exactly did you put in this? Just so I...so I know."

_So I know to creep down tonight and hide the ingredients, to make sure this can never happen to anyone else. Patrons of Leblanc, tonight I save your souls, though my own may be lost--!_

Yusuke twirled, then gathered up a dizzying array of ingredients from behind the counter, laying them out for his perusal. Sakura was clearly barely restraining laughter now, and turned away, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Well, you see, I wanted to give it my own signature, to make this moment memorable--"

"It's memorable!"

"So I combined a variety of beans that Sakura-san assured me each contained a multitude of disparate flavor profiles. A true wealth of depth! Then, I incorporated this--" He gestured to a tin of unsweetened cocoa, and a suspiciously vibrant red jar of powdered spice, "--taking inspiration from Mexican hot chocolate! I avoided any sugar, as you told me you had lost your taste for sweets. I also added a garnish of lightly crushed coffee beans. What are your thoughts?"

_That explains the crunch, then....but it's...it's so bitter._

Akira felt a little better knowing that none of the ingredients were _deadly_ , at least, but he couldn't let Yusuke serve this to any other unsuspecting customer. Seriously, he looked Yusuke directly in the eye and insisted, "Please, never serve this to anyone else."

Yusuke did....not seem to quite get the message. Smiling victoriously, he nodded. "So you wish to have this creation all to yourself! Yes, the fruits of this particular passion may be wasted on anyone but yourself. I will title this masterpiece, "The Spice of Passion!" and reserve it solely for you!"

Akira heard a distinct cackle from the back of the kitchen.

_Keep laughing Boss. Keep laughing._

"Yeah, that's...that's perfect, Yusuke. Could you maybe, uh, get me a glass of water though? The....fire of passion runs very hot."

"But of course!"

 

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

Akira spent a long, quiet afternoon in the attic, curled up with Morgana and his phone. He'd finally read Ryuji's texts from the previous day, and felt guilty for having avoided them.

_[[ 2 days ago ]]_  
      **Ryuji** : Hey man. I...I don't know what to say, other than that I wanna be here for you.

      **Ryuji** : I'm not always the best at this shit but whatever you need just tell me ok? Even if it's just me bein' dumb and distracting, like...I'll do my best

      **Ryuji** : anyway, 'night.

_[[ Yesterday ]]_  
      **Ryuji** : akira?

      **Ryuji** : your phone still off?

      **Ryuji** : i get it man. dammit, I need to get my head out of all of this stuff, but my ma noticed me limping worse and won't let me out of the apartment this weekend.

      **Ryuji** : shit sucks.

      **Ryuji** : but I mean, small thing, right? could be worse, sorry for complaining

No new texts had come through since the previous morning, as all of the excitement from Yu's visit had been covered in the group chat.

Scrolling up and down, rereading the texts, Akira struggled over how to reply. He'd avoided Ryuji, but his friend hadn't pried after all. And he clearly needed support.

_We were **all** in that lounge, and Ryuji got hit by a freaking car to get us there. I know I've been overwhelmed...but I should have trusted him more_.

      **Akira** : hey Ryuji. Sorry I didn't reply the other day. Lot on my mind, and I...I don't know. But don't feel bad about complaining. Are you doing ok? How's your leg?

      **Ryuji** : nah, it's ok. shits been beyond crazy, I get it. as for me, I'm ok...ish? that stuff you gave me the other day is helping a lot. honestly think im fine to go out, but ma insists.

      **Akira** : I'm glad. I wish I didn't have to drag you back into the Palace so quickly, but

      **Ryuji** : i get it man, don't gotta explain it to me. we're gonna take that bastard down, and thats all there is to it

      **Akira** : thanks. it's good to know I can always count on you

      **Ryuji** : yeah akira. anything, seriously. anyway, we'll rest up, and be ready to wreck shit tomorrow, yeah?

      **Akira** : yeah. See you at school

Akira breathed, then, relieved. The conversation had reminded him of everything he enjoyed about Ryuji's friendship. It was simple, and kind. Uncomplicated, unlike everything else in his goddamned life. Ryuji could be impulsive, but he was always genuine in his care.

From downstairs, Sakura's voice murmured, _"...some of the, uh...embellishments you used before were pretty pricey. How about I show you how he usually has it?"_

_"Oh, I see...very well, then, I shall have to bear his disappointment in the future, but that shall only make his joy all the greater when I can serve it to him properly once again!"_

_Pretty sure Boss just saved my life. I should have told Yusuke it was...undrinkable? Inedible? I'm not even sure which applies. But he was so proud!_

The jingle of the doorbell, and the familiar, somewhat excited voice of one of Leblanc's regulars. _"Oh, I remember you! So Sakura-san has decided to keep you on, has he? You certainly brighten the place up!"_

_Ha, it's Dumpling-san._

_"As do you, ma'am."_

_"My, my! He is simply delightful, isn't he?"_

_"Uh...sure. Your order, please?"_

_"Just the usual, Sakura-san, and thank you."_

_"Coming right up. And Yusuke, it's getting late. How about I pay you, and you can get to that errand you were talking about."_

Wondering what errand Yusuke could possibly need to run, Akira turned over in bed, returning to his book just as the doorbell jingled, signaling the artist's departure.

_I'm sure I'll find out later. He still hasn't revealed his "surprise" either. I'm more confident in that being something wonderful, since it seems to be at least art...adjacent?_

He flipped to an early page idly, unsure of what he was looking for, really. Not that he ever was truly looking for something in it, he told himself--it was a book, not an oracle. Eyes alighting on the top of the page, he read:

「 _"No, sir: I had a delicacy," was the reply. "I feel very strongly about putting questions; it partakes too much of the style of the day of judgment._

_"You start a question, and it's like starting a stone. You sit quietly on the top of a hill; and away the stone goes, starting others; and presently some bland old bird (the last you would have thought of) is knocked on the head in his own back garden and the family have to change their name._

_"No sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I ask."_ 」

Akira shook his head, flipping to another page. That was a little too on the nose, and he wanted to be distracted from his latest forced secret-keeping, not reminded of it.

「 _"....my mind misgives me he is in deep waters! He was wild when he was young; a long while ago to be sure; but in the law of God, there is no statute of limitations._

_"Ay, it must be that; the ghost of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace: punishment coming, PEDE CLAUDO, years after memory has forgotten and self-love condoned the fault."_ 」

Not any better. Frustrated, he shut the book, then buried his face in his pillow. His stomach growled, and he considered making his way downstairs for dinner, but was still in no mood to face anyone. A little guiltily, he was even irritated by Morgana's gentle purrs, but didn't dare to move him, as he knew he'd be annoyed even further by his friend's waking voice.

Finally, Akira forced himself out of bed to change his bandage. He'd been avoiding it, not so much out of fear of the potential pain from washing the wound, but out of an intense distaste for even _looking_ at it. The way that it reminded him that his body had been changed against his will. That he'd always have a scar.

Peeling back his bandage, the wound itself was not much to look at. It had scabbed well, the butterfly stitches were doing their job at closing the flesh, and though the healing edges of the wound were red, and maddeningly itchy while healing, if he stood perfectly still, and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that it was not there. Almost.

However, it is impossible to properly care for a wound with your eyes closed.

Feet on the stairs, and Akira rushed to replace the medical supplies he'd been using, in an instinctive scramble to hide them from Sakura. He'd just shoved them beneath the couch, and tugged his shirt back down over his stomach, when the footsteps' owner called to him. "Akira? Are you still here?"

Relaxing, Akira knelt on the floor, his forehead pressed into the seat of the couch. "Hey, Yusuke. Yeah, I'm back here."

"Oh?" The curtain parted, and a smiling face peered through at him. "There you are! Oh--are you...all right?" Yusuke's face fell, transforming into concern.

Akira shook his head, rising. "It's nothing. Just needed to change this." He gestured at his side, and Yusuke nodded in understanding. "So, you're done working with Boss for the day, and charming old ladies?"

"Charming?" Yusuke seemed a bit baffled. "Well, I am finished for the day. I accomplished what I desired, and now--!" As he said that, he raised a paper sack in the air, evidently the spoils of his mysterious errand. "--I must request that you depart, just for a short while. Would you be willing to step downstairs for a moment?"

_I've been alone up here all day, and now that he's back, he wants me to leave?_

_..._

_No, stop it Akira. I'm sure he has a good reason._

Following Yusuke's gesturing hand toward the stairs, Akira acquiesced, if with some bafflement. "Sure, I can. But...for how long, and why...?"

Yusuke merely smiled gently. "Not for long at all. And, as I've been saying...I have a surprise for you."

Akira killed time in a booth downstairs, ears tuned to the mysterious scraping and shuffling coming from the attic. An hour passed, the sun set, and Sakura locked up, saying his farewells with an enigmatic smile.

_Is Boss in on this surprise too? Maybe that's why Yusuke was working all day? And why he actually **paid** him? He never pays **me**...._

Quiet footsteps on the stairs, and Akira raised his tired eyes to see his boyfriend, halfway down them, holding out a hand. Yusuke smiled gently. "If you would follow me? I'm afraid I'll have to insist that you close your eyes, but only for a moment."

"Close my eyes? I....okay." Bewildered, but not unhappily so, Akira rose from the booth, meeting Yusuke at the mouth of the stairs.

Yusuke still held out his arm. "Won't you take my hand?"

At that, Akira smiled, holding out his own. "Of course, Yusuke." Their hands met, a simple, soft, comforting thing, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be led up to the attic.

It was a trek he'd made a hundred times by now if he'd made it once, something that had changed over time from something that filled him with trepidation, unwantedness, and shame, to something merely mundane. But now, for once, being guided by Yusuke up those same stairs, he allowed himself to feel genuine excitement.

Blind, Akira felt his every footstep on the stairs, heard every breath, and the tiny edges of a world that had blurred together for him in normalcy came into focus.

They stopped, he judged, somewhere in the center of the attic. There was a strange, unfamiliar whirring sound, and the absence of Morgana's sleeping snores.

"Morgana, is he--"

"Stepped out, for the moment." Yusuke confirmed. "Now, if you would stand here, just so, for optimal...." A hand moved to his hips, and Akira allowed himself to be rotated in place.

Akira heard Yusuke inhale. His own stomach fluttering, he heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"Open your eyes."

He opened them, and they widened in astonishment. A slow, helpless smile spread across Akira's face, his features transformed by pure wonderment. "I may not be able to bring you to the stars...but I wanted to bring the stars to you."

"Yusuke...this is....!"

The attic _glowed_ , swirled, flickered, spun, swathed in thousands of tiny, swirling points of light. In the center of the floor lay what must have been Yusuke's mysterious project--a wide, tin globe, rotating slowly, pierced a thousand times at least, and lit from within to project the glory of the night sky over every inch of an attic that he wasn't certain he'd ever be able to think of as "drab" again.

Colors bled into each other, colors he'd never have seen in the night sky, but which he now felt certain _belonged_ there. Some constellations he recognized, and he wondered how Yusuke had done it--had he studied star charts? Or had he held this memory strongly enough in his own heart to bring it into reality all on his own?

"Do you...do you like it?" Yusuke sounded nervous, and Akira realized that he had not finished the exclamation of joy he'd begun. He stared up at his boyfriend, at the slivers of silver light gliding across his face, throwing the angles of his cheeks into sharp and beautiful relief. At the stars, dancing in his eyes.

Momentarily wordless, he turned, burying his face in Yusuke's chest. "I love it. You...."

A hand on the back of his head, running deft fingers though his hair. "I'm so glad."

They gave each other a moment to just stand there, sinking into the joy and comfort of the glistening world that Yusuke had created. Finally, with a tug on his hand, Akira sank to the floor, and to an indoor picnic that his eyes had entirely passed over when he'd taken in the lights.

"I hope that these are to your liking. I tried--I knew I wouldn't have time to cook. Nor the skill, being honest, but..." Every blanket and pillow in the attic had been dragged to just off the center of the room, to make a nest of sorts, in somehow beautifully clashing colors.

In the center, he'd laid out a menagerie of snacks--all savory, Akira noted with a smile. "I regret that I was unable to find freshly smoked fish in such a short period of time, and with my budget."

Akira laughed happily, leaning back into a pile of pillows, and Yusuke's arms. "It's okay. I love chips, and sandwiches, and--" He squinted at a wrapper, the words dancing away from him in the glittering swirl of lights. "Shrimp...flavored crackers. This is perfect, Yusuke, this is....thank you."

Yusuke squeezed him more tightly. "Thank you. For being here, and for being my inspiration in this. Having you here...it brightens my world in a way that would surely dwarf this display."

They laid there like that, in peace, watching the stars transform the attic. Gliding across Jack Frost, the corners and angles of shelves, the beams of the attic ceiling that Akira had regarded with such vague helplessness when he'd first arrived.

Yusuke pointed out which constellations were based in reality, which planets had been created with paint and plastic, colored film. "I may have taken a few liberties with the night sky for you. I hope that is all right. See, there--"

After two hours, Morgana returned from his night-time trek, clambering through the open window. "Ugh, that crow nearly bit me! I'm going to chase that thing away someday, I swear I am!"

Akira laughed, shaking his head. "Don't, Morgana, it lives here too. How was your night out?"

"Not bad, but wow!" Morgana leapt down onto Akira's bed, looking otherworldly dappled in a rainbow constellation. "I'm starting to feel like I really missed out. Yusuke outdid himself, huh?"

"Do you think so?" Yusuke sounded proud, and it made Akira's heart happy.

_He **should** be proud. I'm constantly amazed by his talent, but this...._

Akira laid his head on Yusuke's chest, happily sinking into the comfort of the evening, and did his best to put voice to his thoughts. "I don't think I'll ever see this place the same way again."

To his surprise, Yusuke murmured into his hair, "We...could make that more _literal_ , if you have the energy for it."

" 'Literal?' How?"

Yusuke disentangled himself, then leaned forward, pressing a switch on the side of his homemade planetarium globe. The movement halted, but the lights remained. He then dug beneath a pile of pillows, drawing out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. "If you'd like, we could make this more....permanent. I left this out in the sun, so it should already glow, if you...." He removed the cloth, revealing a box containing several tubs of phosphorescent paint and a bundle of his own paintbrushes.

_Glow in the dark paint? We could...._

Akira glanced around the attic, imagining this being his forever. Light, splashed on every wooden beam, on every brick exposed by crumbling plaster.

"Boss might kill us."

Yusuke's face fell, staring down into the box. "I...I hadn't considered, but that may be true."

Akira grinned. "Let's do it."

His eyes rose, then, rebrightened with enthusiasm. "Are you certain?!"

"More than anything. I can't promise that what I paint will be nearly as beautiful as what you created, but I want to try."

Yusuke smiled, shaking his head. "Anything your hands touch is beautiful to me."

Running one of those hands along the side of Yusuke's face, Akira reddened, feeling cheesy, but needing to say it. "In this moment, anyway, you may be right."

Then, it was Yusuke's turn to flush.

Together, they spent the rest of their evening dragging around chairs to reach every spot, laughing, paint dripping in their hair, paint on their hands, cheeks, noses. Glowing pawprints, smeared across the attic floor, and then added to the ceiling, along with their own handprints, as Akira raised Morgana in the air to help him make his own mark. Everything glowing, Akira and Yusuke's hearts most of all.

For one brilliant night, Akira's world shined.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute chapter, yes, but can I just mention here that in PQ2, Yusuke admits that he had to eat grass to survive?? (And Shinji feeds him a feast, because Shinji is everyone's mom.)😭


	45. Dismay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and the thieves enter the Palace to a disturbing sight, and Johanna is born in battle.

"Akira!!" Akira looked up and saw a blonde blur as Ann and Ryuji rushed toward him. Together, they crushed Akira in a hug, right at the school gates.

"Missed you, man."

A little bewildered at their enthusiasm, Akira laughed from within their arms. "I missed you too, but you know, it's only been two days. Even less for you, Ann!"

Their hugs tightened. "I know, but...."

_Everything's been too much lately. For them, too._

His face buried in one of Ann's pigtails, he murmured, "I....I know. So you're ready, right? Today?"

Ann nodded, pulling away slowly. "Yeah. If you are."

From within his bookbag, a muffled Morgana insisted, "We can do this. There's no way that the Palace hasn't changed."

Ryuji kept his arm around his shoulder. "As long as you're sure, then of course. No way I'm holdin' back."

"I'm sure." Akira felt eyes on them, then. He turned, gaze sliding behind himself and Ryuji, to see a cluster of students just past the gate, staring and muttering.

 _"What's up with **that**?"_ a third-year boy murmured with narrowed eyes.

A ponytailed girl beside him replied, _"Maybe they're all like....y'know....."_ She made a crude gesture with her hands, smirking.

_Damn this school...._

Akira stepped out from under Ryuji's arm, then tugged both of his friends toward the door. "Guys...we should go."

 _"What?? Ew! You can't say stuff like that!"_ another girl exclaimed, sounding more intrigued than genuinely dismayed. _"What, like a....Takamaki sandwich?"_

_"Or a transfer student sandwich. I dunno, could be kinda hot."_

High-pitched laughter, and Akira's hand tightened on Ann and Ryuji's elbows. _"Oh my goddd, you're so twisted!"_

"This school..." Ryuji's face had fallen. He'd heard the whispers too.

Ann shook her head, holding her chin high. "Just ignore them." She turned just enough to make direct eye contact with the loudest of the group, and continued more loudly, "It's not _our_ fault that _some people_ are so pathetic that they can't recognize actual friendship."

The third-year girl at least had the grace to flinch under Ann's unrelenting glare.

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
The moment the final bell rang, the four Thieves of Shujin met up on the small landing just inside the now-locked door to the school roof. And there, they argued about what to do next with a certain student council president.

Ryuji sat on a pile of junk in the corner, grumbling. "Ann, I meant what I said when I told her she's comin' in with us. Akira, isn't she a part of this now anyway?"

Akira nodded cautiously, staring through the narrow window in the door leading to the roof. "She is. And if she wants to go, she has the Nav anyway. It's not like we could stop her."

Ann shifted unhappily. "Yeah. She does for sure, by the way. I checked when I walked her home. I did my best to explain stuff, and how dangerous it is, and she didn't seem inclined to argue. But...who knows how she feels now?"

"Now that the dust has settled, so to speak?"

"Yeah..." Ann agreed.

From Akira's schoolbag, Morgana wondered, "Will she even be helpful in that world?"

Ryuji shook his head, leaning back on one elbow. "Doubt it. But I still think--"

_I have to address this, don't I? Nijima is the last person whose side I want to take against Ryuji, but..._

Akira stepped away from the door, then gestured for Ryuji to scoot over so he could sit next to him. The miscellaneous junk creaked and shifted beneath them, and Akira had to wonder how this could have possibly been comfortable for Ryuji to sit on.

_Maybe it is just more comfortable than trying to stand. His leg...I don't want to drag him into the Palace...but I'm going to anyway._

_Selfish._

"Ryuji...I remember what you said to her. That day."

"Yeah? Well I meant it. She should see just what she was blackmailing us into." There was a hint of defiance in Ryuji's voice, like he could tell that Akira at least partially thought he was in the wrong, and bristled at it.

Akira tented his fingers together in front of his face, trying to think of the best way to phrase how he felt. "I know. And Ryuji, I'm not happy with what she did. In fact, I'm fucking pissed. Nijima handled this in the worst possible way, when she could have just _asked_ us. But...." He paused, then reflexively tried to adjust glasses that were no longer there. "Have we actually made ourselves approachable? We _are_ 'The Delinquents Club,' after all."

Ryuji frowned, jiggling a leg up and down. The movement shifted the junk even more, and Akira had to post his legs on the ground to stop himself from sliding to the floor. "I guess. Still don't like that she acted like she was so much better than us that she could boss us around and go off on her own."

From across the landing, Ann murmured, "Well, really, we don't know _what_ she was thinking. It looked like that to me on the outside too. But..."

"She could have other motives, is that it?" Morgana asked.

Akira nodded. "She could. But...Ryuji...more than that, I think how we handle this says something about us. Trying to protect people, save people, give them courage...that's useless if we let them _die_ when we're angry with them! And we all know that that is a possibility if we drag Nijima, unwillingly and unprepared, into the Metaverse."

"Akira..." Ann's fists hung at her sides, but she seemed to agree.

_But Ryuji...._

For a while, Ryuji stayed silent, the tips of his ears red, and his face working its way through a series of emotions. Finally, he nodded, staring at his feet. "Yeah. Yeah man, I get it. I'm just so...pissed isn't even a good enough word."

Ryuji gripped his knee, but his eyes kept darting toward Akira, and then away again. After another moment, he admitted, voice low and unhappy, "I guess it isn't even really at her, but...she's the closer target, huh? Damn it..." He squeezed his eyes shut.

Ann pushed herself from the wall, looking decisive. "So we'll give her a choice. For all we know, she's planning to go in on her own anyway, and if she does, it's better if we're with her. For her own sake, and for ours, so no one is just...running around in there outside of our control."

Morgana agreed. "That seems like our best option for now..."

Akira nodded once, sharply, then stood. "Okay. A choice. Let's go find her." He held out his hand to Ryuji, who stared at it for a few seconds before finally taking it to pull himself up with a groan.

"Yeah....okay. If we're doin' it that way, let's just do it."

Together, they lurked outside the student council room, waiting for Nijima to emerge. When she finally did, she met Akira's eyes for one moment before looking away. "We all...need to talk, don't we? In here?" She gestured toward the door she'd just exited, seeming uncertain.

Akira shook his head. "We need to get going. Let's talk while we walk."

Nijima fiddled with the agenda in her hands, then agreed. "Fine."

The school was emptier now, and their footsteps echoed in the strangely eerie absence of its usual bustle. As they reached the stairs, Ryuji paused, drawing their attention. His chin down, eyes shadowed, he clenched a fist, then seemed to force himself to release it. Uncharacteristically quietly, Ryuji mumbled, "Nijima-senpai. We're goin' in. Not gonna make you come with, but...I guess you're in this shit too now, right?"

"Today?! I..." Nijima looked startled. She bit her lip, scanning their faces. What she was hoping to see there, Akira couldn't be certain of. But, slowly, she seemed to come to a resolution.

She placed her agenda in her bag in a single sharp motion, like looking at her other responsibilities for a single moment might shake her resolve. "Fine. Let's go. But first, I need to stop at home."

"Really?! What could you need that--"

Before Ryuji could fully go off, Akira interrupted him. "I'll go with you."

_There's something I need to ask her anyway.  Alone. So...this works._

Behind him, Ann murmured, "Should we all go then?"

"No, you and Ryuji go on ahead to Shibuya. Meet Yusuke, let him know what's going on. Morgana, up to you which of us you want to go with."

A face poked its way through a zipper. "I'll go to Shibuya."

_I'd hoped as much._

Nijima's eyes widened, but she wasn't nearly as shocked as Akira had expected. "I don't know that I'll ever get used to that."

_Oh. That's right, she's seen him already. Maybe Ann explained..._

Morgana glowered. "Well, get used to me, because I'm the one guiding you all through this!"

"I'll...Yes, I'm sorry. I'm sure I will."

"Okay. Do either of you have space in your bag, or...?"

Ann shook her head. "I'll just take yours, if that works."

As he was slung over Ann's shoulder, Morgana whined unhappily, "I'm so tired of being tossed around like this...But at least it's Lady Ann. I guess."

Ann poked a hand though the zipper to pat Morgana on the head. "Sorry Morgana...but I'm sure this won't be forever."

The Thieves and Nijima exited Shujin, then took separate trains at the station. Akira followed Nijima to hers, and, miraculously, they both managed to grab a seat. They sat together awkwardly, each of their knees angled as far away from the other's as possible.

_This is...._

Akira glanced at Nijima, but her gaze remained pointedly ahead, though she was wringing her hands in her lap.

_Fine. I'll do it._

He spoke up. "You're going to wrinkle your skirt."

".....Oh. Yes." Her hands froze, then clasped together. "My apologies. I'm....." She trailed off, then shook her head. "Nevermind. I'm not sure what I was going to say."

_She's always seemed so confident. Not that I usually **enjoyed** that from her, but it's uncomfortable seeing her act this way toward me. I'd almost prefer she go back to glaring at me. Not...this bizarre hesitation, like I'm some wrong...thing._

_After the other day...after...how much has changed?_

_How much has changed that I haven't even realized yet?_

Those unhappy musings reminded Akira of the thing he'd come with her to ask, although he wasn't sure he had the stomach to hear her answer. "Nijima-senpai....?"

She continued to stare down at her hands. Anywhere but him, it seemed. "Yes? And...and you can call me Makoto. Any of the others too. There doesn't seem to be much point in formalities anymore, does there?"

_I guess. It feels weird with her, though._

"You can do the same then, if you want. Makoto. I...I wanted to know--" The words caught in Akira's throat, and he swallowed heavily. "--Have you been getting any strange texts....from....."

**_[[ ............... ]]_ **

Makoto flinched visibly. That was his answer, then. Akira's gut twisted, and he squeezed his eyes shut, then sat on his hands, knowing that if he didn't, he'd wring them to death.

_Why? Is it just **her**? Or the others too, and they just haven't said--? No, he didn't mess with their phones, only mine and Niji......Makoto's. That's why I asked her this, that's why--but--then she was--_

_Is that why she won't look at me?_

_**[[ .... "Mom.....can I come in? Please, mom?!"** _

_**"No. Not until I can stand to look at you."** _

_**"When will that be?"** _

_**"......." ]]** _

A rustle of fabric beside him, as Makoto leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands. Through her fingers, she replied, "Yes. I didn't know what to say, but I..."

But then....she looked at him, and in those strange red eyes, all that Akira could see was guilt. Horror, pain, and guilt. Part of him had expected....disgust, some sort of judgement. The sort of treatment he'd grown used to, from...

**_[[ ................. ]]_ **

_But she's not? Because....because I'm not there. I have to keep telling myself that. I'm in Tokyo, and while some things are the same, some people are different. I'll....I'll remember that._

_Still. I can't stand this either. I don't want that guilty sadness leaking all over me, when I'm already...._

Akira forced himself to breathe. To handle this. "Please, just don't mention it to the others. At least not the contents. I...they don't need that, and I don't want it."

"Okay." Her one word reply was all he needed, really, but the short acknowledgment wasn't what he'd expected. The simplicity was almost--

".....Kuru...ah....Akira-kun?"

_No, of course that wasn't all._

"Hm?" Akira watched Makoto fiddle with her skirt again, eyes narrowed. He couldn't quite tell, but there might have been a certain wet gleam there. Whatever she was going to ask, he was 95% sure he wanted nothing to do with it.

"Do you...regret it?"

His breath caught in his chest.

"........."

_How do I...how do I answer a question like that? I..._

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate of me. It's just, it's been in my head, pounding like circling footsteps, ever since--"

Akira interrupted her with the best reply could give, not wanting to hear anymore. His answer was honest, at least. "I don't know."

"I see. I--" Mercifully, he was spared from further conversation when their train halted at her stop.

Following her to a large, brick-walled apartment complex in silence, Akira did his best not to ruminate, with middling results.

_It's not that I blame her for....everything. That rests on Kaneshiro. And the choices I made...well, I made them. It made sense to me in the moment of crisis. I'm the one that's already...._

_........_

Akira lingered on a bench near the curb while Makoto went inside alone, doing his best to look inconspicuous. It wasn't that her building was in a ritzy neighborhood, exactly, but he couldn't help but feel uncomfortablely out of place. Everything was just so... _clean_ and new.

_I figured it was inevitable, in some way. I thought that I'd be able to deal with it. But...._

_I can't. Not really._

Footsteps on the sidewalk, and a shadow passed over his shoulder. "I'm as ready as I'm going to be. So let's go."

Makoto still clutched her schoolbag at her side, though it now swung more heavily.

Heading back to the station, Akira was already exhausted by this day. Exhausted by questions, by too-clean neighborhoods, by life in general.

The train arrived, and he closed his eyes, willing away the painfully familiar

_Jump?_

that welled up once again in the back of his mind. It had been a while. He should have expected it.

 _My head hurts. It's just fatigue. I'm sure that's all._  
_It's not like I'm allowed to think that way. The last thing I need to do...is give anyone more guilt._

His eyes flickered over Makoto, swaying beside him in the train car, clutching her bag like it was the only thread of stability left to her in the world.

_Maybe it is._

Rubbing his forehead, Akira exited to Shibuya station, then pointed toward the accessway. "They'll be over here. What did you bring, anyway?"

Makoto clenched her bag more tightly, eyes darting nervously around the crowded train station. Akira sighed. "If you're worried that you're acting suspiciously, you _are_. Just talk to me like...I don't know. Like I asked you a question about school. Be boring enough for no one to take interest, and you'll be fine."

"Right." She took one last look at her bag, then forced herself to relax and let it swing at her side. Her voice marginally more conversational now, she answered him while walking. "It's a gun."

It took everything in Akira to take his own advice at that moment. "Is...that so? Did Ann explain to you everything that..."

Makoto hurriedly broke in to explain. "Oh! Ah, it's not--It was my dad's service revolver...but it was made nonfunctional, a glorified paperweight--the only way we were allowed to keep it after he died. But it'll work in that place, according to what Takamaki told me. Isn't that correct?"

_Still, she brought an **actual** gun? No wonder she looks nervous. If she was caught with something like that..._

Akira shook his head. "It will work, yeah. But you should have just talked to us. I would have bought you a fake. Or lent one of my spares."

"I...maybe you're right. I'm sorry. But I didn't want to be any more indebted..." She trailed off, not finishing with _"...than I already am."_

_I can't do this._

Akira shot forward, grabbed Makoto by the wrist, and dragged her into a quieter corner of the station. "Akira-kun! What...what are you--"

He shook his head, then looked her in the eye. Makoto's gaze slid away, and he had to insist, "Please. Please just look at me."

"I'm sorry, I--"

**"No!"**

She flinched at his sudden exclamation, and her eyes darted down to his clenched fists. "What.... _what_ then?"

"If we're doing this--taking you with us, working together, spending even _one more second together,_ I **need** you to do something." Heart hammering, Akira struggled to contain the intensity that threatened to pour from him and leak out into the station, ruining everything by drawing attention.

"And what is that?"

"I need you to stop dancing around me. I need you to stop apologizing, stop flinching when you look at me. I....your guilt...I can't handle it. Because every time it radiates out of you, it reminds me of the cause, and I...."

He buried his hand in his hair, overwhelmed and struggling to remain in control. "I just can't. I can't see it. I can't be confronted with that, over and over again. So can you stop? _Try_ to stop? I don't care if it isn't fair. I wish I did care, because I know you had a horrible experience too, but I don't. I just can't."

Makoto's face contorted, and--

_If I've made her cry, I am going to scream._

\--settled, with obvious effort. She laughed a quiet, nervous laugh. "I almost apologized for making you feel this way, but you don't want that either, am I right?"

_.....it doesn't count as restraining yourself if you find a way to say it anyway._

His jaw tight, Akira simply replied, "Right."

Seriously, she met his eyes. "Okay. I'll do my best. I'll treat you as normally as I can, and if I treat you abnormally, it'll be because of our bizarre circumstances. Or your talking cat."

Akira took a deep breath, willing his nerves to settle so that he could feel prepared to face his friends. "Thank you. For the record though, he's not a cat."

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Akira blinked the purple from his eyes, and something was _wrong_. Something other than the bruised light of a deadened Shibuya, or the frantic mechanical wails of a nearby ATM.

"My hands...."

Now, he realized what had been wrong that day. Akira recalled the flash of Ryuji's yellow glove, stained with his blood, and his own pale, _gloveless_ hand. He stretched that same hand out before himself in horror, then felt a strange, immediate instinct to hide it when he saw the fear in his friends' eyes through the gaps in their own --still-present-- masks.

Aghast, Ann gasped, "Again? Oh no..."

Akira turned to her, demanding, "Again?! What are you talking about?!" He already knew. He already knew, but he didn't _want_ to know.

_This makes zero sense. This can't..._

Ryuji put a hand on his shoulder, and Akira resisted the need to flinch away. "When we brought you in before, to try to heal you....you didn't...."

"I'm sorry, A--Joker. I should have realized that you may not have noticed yourself, in...in such a state." Yusuke looked wan and guilty, twisting his fox tail between his hands.

_I was **just** in the Velvet Room! And I can feel...._

Akira mentally searched his mind for his Personae.

_Matador... Nekomata...Ippon-Datara... Inugami.... Makami... and Arsene, frayed as ever, but **there**. They're there. **So why can't I--**_

Ann continued miserably, "I thought...or I _hoped_ that it was just because you were....hurt. And there was so much going on, I couldn't think or focus, I'm sorry Joker, I--"

_I can't waste any more time--I--I can't--_

Fists clenched in his pockets, he couldn't seem to find anything appropriate to say. All Akira managed to groan out was, "Why?...." Pain in his palms, and he knew he was gripping too hard, but he couldn't--he had to focus, somehow he had to--

Morgana seemed to take his _"Why?"_ as more than a rhetorical question and tried to answer, his ears drooping. "That's....it's possible that.....well, we transform when the Palace ruler recognizes us as threats. And....." Morgana trailed off.

_Oh._

_.....oh._

".....say it, Mona." Akira clenched his hands more tightly, his shoulders rigid. He knew it now. He knew. But he didn't want to accept it.

"......if you aren't transforming here after....after the other day. Then it is possible that he is refusing to see you as a threat."

_So even here. Even here, I can't..._

_This was my place.  This was supposed to be the place where I wasn't useless, where I could--_

His hand gripping Akira's shoulder so firmly that it was almost painful, Ryuji hissed, "That bastard...."

_....no._

_No. I won't accept that._

".....Great. Let's get going." He withdrew his hands from his pockets, quickly wiped away the drops of blood his nails had drawn on his pants, then began stalking away down the empty, echoing street, every step kicking up dust that immediately resettled, leaving no trace of a footprint.

Like he'd never been there at all.

"Hey!" "Wait--Joker, wait up!"

Behind him, Yusuke cried out in alarm. "What?! Joker, shouldn't we leave?"

Akira shook his head, still walking. "If that's how he feels, it won't change from waiting or standing around. I still have my knife. And my gun. If all else fails, I can be a fucking pack mule for our supplies. I don't care. But I'm going in. And no one here can tell me not to."

Makoto hurriedly reached his side, then met his eyes, nodding. "I'll be doing the same, after all. I can't know...exactly what you're missing, but pushing forward makes sense to me. We're going _there_ \--is that right?"

She pointed ahead, and the Thieves were temporarily startled out of arguing by the sight before them. Extending down the length of a full block of Central Street, an enormous silver staircase fell from the sky, forming a ramp connecting cracked sidewalk to gleaming fortress.

Morgana stared up its length. "So it _did_ open."

Akira nodded. "Even more reason to be here today. So, everyone, battle plan." With Akira falling into the rhythm of his leadership role, the Thieves, though somewhat uneasily, accepted their own as well. Ann returned Akira's school bag, which he filled with the majority of their provisions and healing supplies.

_There's more than one way for me to help keep them all alive. I'm going to tell myself that this is enough. I have to. I'm just...going to keep pushing forward._

Swiftly, the Thieves mounted the staircase, rising to the level of the financial fortress hundreds of feet above Shibuya. The air up there, surprisingly, felt crisp and clean, if a bit sterile.

Ryuji grumbled. " 's like he's tryin' to even keep the good air for himself."

Akira stared over edge of Kaneshiro's Palace at cognitive Shibuya, feeling the wind whip his hair.

_Ju--_

He mentally slapped himself.

_Stop it._

_Anyway._

_Shibuya....from up here, it's almost worse. It looks like a broken face kicked in by a boot. Bruised and bloody and cracked and empty._

Walking up behind him, Yusuke took his hand, then lead him away from the edge. "How would you like to proceed?"

Before Akira could answer, Makoto pointed ahead at the face of the building. "Should we try the door?" Behind her, Akira saw Ryuji scowl beneath his mask at her interruption.

Akira shook his head. "That's...not really how we do things. If anything, it's more dangerous for us to just walk in through the front door. And with you...and I...like this. No, we'll find another entrance."

Morgana darted forward. "That's right! Time to show you how Phantom Thieves work!"

Together, the Thieves crept around the perimeter of the building, searching for an alternate entrance. After making a full circle, Ann frowned. "This place is sealed up pretty tightly."

"Man, there's gotta be a way. Wanna make another circle around?"

"Just wait. Let me think." Akira leaned against the perimeter fence, staring up at the bank's merciless facade.

_There has to be something. I feel so useless like this. Without being able to use my Persona...._

**_~ You are never wholly without me. Open your eyes._ **

_Arsene. I....oh. Will that still work, even without--?_

Akira closed two of his eyes, then opened his third. Once again, the glimmer of metal from the mechanism that lowered the enormous staircase caught his attention.

_That's useless. But thank goodness. I can do **something**._

"One second, everyone. Let me look."

He paced the immediate perimeter, not sure what to expect. Even to his third eye, the building itself seemed impenetrable. But--

_There. What's that glint, on that ridiculous statue?_

Akira waved everyone over to the enormous statue of a piggy bank in the small courtyard just off of the main entrance. There was something about the placard on the front that looked out of place.

Yusuke sized it up with a sneer. "What an ugly, bland design."

Ryuji kicked it, scowling. "What is it with these Palaces and weird-ass statues? Between all of the busts in Kamoshida's, and that creepy golden mess in Madarame's...piggy here might take the cake for "just plain weird," though."

"Why did you call us all over here, ah...they were calling you 'Joker'?" Makoto looked skeptical.

"It's...right here." Hoping that he was right, Akira pressed the placard, and was gratified when it sank into the statue's base, initiating a series of mechanical clanks. Slowly, the statue receded toward the bank, revealing a set of stairs. He allowed himself a small smirk. "A side entrance."

Ann cheered, "All right, Joker! That's how it's done!"

Waving for Makoto to follow, Akira lead the thieves cautiously through a dark, claustrophobic tunnel. Just as he'd hoped, it slowly rose upward, leading through a removable wall panel and into a small landing that was quite clearly inside the bank itself.

Exiting, he heard low voices, and held out a hand to pause the rest of the group. "Shh. Listen."

There was no one visible on the landing itself, or the stairs that lead down from it, but from below and around a corner, a gloating voice echoed that made Akira's jaw clench.

_".....sent them off, and the little shits **believed me.** "_

_"Fuckin' hilarious, boss. Like any kid's gonna come up with 3 million yen."_

_"Best part is, even if they do, I've got enough blackmail to put him to work anyway, for as long as I want. Why wouldn't I? The girl, too. Heh, it's gonna feel great to snatch the kid right from under--"_

He didnt want to hear anymore. He didn't want anyone _else_ to hear anymore.

_It's not like I'm hearing anything that is news to me. Even if it does make me want to puke._

"We need to head away from here. We're...in no shape to face a Palace ruler right now. Mona, can you sense where the treasure is?"

Morgana shook his head, while the rest of the Thieves looked on, all slightly grey. "I can tell that it isn't on this floor, but other than that..."

"Then we'll head further in." Akira turned to the others as confidently as he could and motioned for them to crouch and follow him.

"Okay." "We're with you, Joker."

Before they reached the foot of the stairs, he turned to Makoto, who seemed shaken and grim. "Can you do this?"

Her eyes hardened, and she gripped her father's pistol with white knuckles. "It doesn't seem that I have much of a choice."

"All right, then."

Akira peered carefully around the corner, just in time to watch Kaneshiro's shadow trail further into the Palace, flanked by security.

_That'll leave this floor open for us to dart across the main hall, if we're quick. It's too open for my taste, but if it's between that and a direct confrontation..._

He clenched his fists.

_....I don't want to face him again until I have the power to tear his shadow limb from limb._

Quietly, he directed his team to follow him further into the Palace, sticking to the shadows and periphery as best they could. He knew they could all hold their own, but without the ability to protect them with anything more than his knife and a gun with very limited ammunition, it seemed best to avoid a fight if possible.

Silently, they darted through a lobby, a staircase, a series of halls.  The bank was eerie in its sheer normalcy.  If there hadn't been shadows patrolling the corridors, and the pervasive sense of bitter oppressiveness, it could have been any place in reality.  

_Does he think he is just a normal part of how the world works?  That's...disgusting._

They sighted a shadow operating an elevator, and lingered, hidden, until the elevator cab closed. Trying the button on their own, they confirmed that it was inoperable without some sort of key.

"Dammit..." Ryuji pressed the call button again in frustration, but it was just as ineffective as it had been the first three times.

Makoto glanced anxiously around the for-now empty hall. "I don't like standing around here. Shouldn't we leave it?"

Morgana pressed his forehead to carpeted floor, and seemed to be listening. "I....I think I can sense the Treasure now. It's definitely on a lower level."

"Can we take the stairs?" Ann remained by her post at the corner of the hall, watching for shadows.

"Possibly. But if we can find a way to operate this, I think it's likely it'll take us closer to where we need to go." Akira gestured to the Thieves to join him for a huddle near Ann. "I say we start tossing the offices we've passed along the way. We'll look for key cards, and any potential information that may be laying around."

Yusuke nodded. "That seems as good a plan as any."

"Normally I'd say that we should split up, but with Makoto and I...let's take this carefully. Sound good?"

"Let's give it a shot."

Together, they crept from door to door, testing handles. And door after door was locked, fitted with a slot for a key card. Akira's frustration mounted.

_I...I refuse to leave here without doing **something.**_

**_I won't! If I have to tear a door down with my own goddamned bare hands, I'll--_ **

A hand on his wrist, and Yusuke murmured, "Joker...Are you all right? You seem agitated."

It was then that he realized just how tense his body was, that he was nearly _vibrating_ with unresolvable tension. He shook his head, remembering his promise to be honest. "Not really. No. But I need to keep moving."

Yusuke nodded, replying quietly. "I understand. Just please take care."

"Yeah." Akira pulled ahead to move to the next door.

_Why am I the one who needs to be looked after now? I...I wouldn't want them to **not** care, but this isn't my role, this isn't the place I've wanted to be!_

Those thoughts in his mind, when he tugged the next door, and it opened in his hand with a sharp ((click))...he entered.

A wash of pink flooded the office, a bewildering sense of mental disconnect pierced Akira's mind...and he faded, the smug face of Leanan Sidhe the last thing he managed to grasp.

_Marin Karin..._

The shadow rose, floating away through an unbarred vent to watch the show.

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

_[[ ((Freedom. I'm free I'm free I'm--))_

_Akira slashed with his knife in a broad circle, uncaring which of his enemies he sliced, as long as he could feel the satisfaction of hitting **something**._

_"Why do my enemies look so shocked? It's **hilarious**!"_

_A trail of blood glistened in the air, and he smirked as it splashed his cheek, his enemy letting out a sharp wail._

_(( Good. Good good but not good enough, not enough, I need-- ))_

_He was vaguely aware of some nonsensical shrieking from his foes. A lot of "No!" and "Get back!" and **"Energy Drop!"**_

_((Oh, no. Can't have **that**.))_

_Akira dug in his supplies and tore open a Magic Ointment, repelling the threat to his newfound freedom. They wouldn't trick him, hold him down, **take** from him._

_He laughed aloud at their panic, brandishing his blade._

_"Joker! Please, snap out of it! Aaaaah!"_

_"Panther, no! Everyone, you must get back!"_

_"Akira, **PLEASE**!"_

_Voice low and vicious, he spoke to himself as he darted closer, using every ounce of his agility. "These enemies--shadows-- **whatever** they are--think they know my name! That's....so goddamn funny, I could just **die**!"_

_He lunged, but no satisfaction. If they'd just stop **goddamned dancing away from him--**_

**_[[ ....And what is that?"_ **

**_"I need you to stop dancing around me. I need you to stop...." ]]_ **

_Akira flinched at an odd memory, then shoved it aside, darting around the edge of the room, desperate to get a hit in. Red enemy--slash--missed this time. Blue enemy--slash--just the clothes. Yellow enemy--slash--only a nick, but it stood its ground, guarding some small, pitiful thing._

_Its mouth moved, and once again, it almost seemed like it was actually **talking**. Hilarious!_

_"Even without his Persona, he's too goddamn fast. I can't hit him without, like, **hitting** him!"_

_"Mona, can't you cure him?!"_

_"I'm **trying**! He's carrying most of our healing items, and he keeps throwing up magic barriers to bounce back my skills!"_

_"He's barely armed compared to the rest of you! Just take him down and heal him later!"_

_(( That other thing is trying to speak too?! ))_

_Akira flung himself forward, only to be dragged backward by the stinging lash of a whip. He watched in frustration as his quarry backed away toward the open door, and he wrenched himself loose._

_"Distance, then." He drew his gun._

_"No, Nijima, I...I won't hurt him! I refuse! Akira, please, I implore you, **see me!** " Something approached him, slowly, hands out. It was blocking his view, blocking his aim, and it **pissed him off.**_

_He flung his pistol into its face, firing off a shot. Eyes went wide and panicked, and a head barely dodged, thrust to the side, a cognitive bullet barely skimming a cheekbone to blow through billowing blue._

**_"FOX! NO!"_ **

_"Shit! Fox, get out of there! He's not himself, let's just lock him in the room until it wears off."_

_A horrified voice that was music to his ears, even as he disregarded its words to advance. "I....I refuse! I can't, that shadow may come back. I'll try once more, I'll try--"_

**_"Why won't you fight him?!"_ **

_"He's already hurting! He's already--"_

_"Dammit just shut the door! Shut it and lock it, and we can figure out something. We'll fire in healing spells until he runs out of those goddamn items. Something!"_

_A black and yellow blur darted forward, dragging away his closest foe, and Akira growled in frustration. He fired again, blindly, only to watch his opponents duck behind a door, the bullet glancing off the frame. One remained in focus, however. It glared with defiant red eyes._

_"So you're just going to sit there and let him hit you, over and over again? How do you think he'll feel about that, when he comes to his senses? **You're going to gift him with that kind of guilt? I won't allow it."**_

_"Makoto, I know, but--but he's our--"_

**_"I won't let your justice be corrupted."_ **

_The figure started forward, swaying on its feet. A shadow, yes, a shadow, preparing to attack, to finally properly attack, and he'd get his fight, he'd get it, because it was wreathed in power now, shifting, changing, tearing, rending, screaming, **"JOHANNA!" and racing toward him.**_

_Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he abandoned his gun, raising his knife in the sheer thrill of battle, preparing to tear, ready for satisfaction, for--_

_A high pitched shriek from beyond the room, a " **Stop it!"**_

_(( But I won't stop. I'll kill it I'll-- ))_

_He spun in space, as the only foe willing to put up a fight circled him, shouting back, "No. You all know it's the only **right** thing to do. You just won't do it."_

_The screech of tires, as it changed direction too suddenly for him to readjust. A gasp from somewhere far away, a terrible ((CRACK!)) and a steel-knuckled fist slammed into the side of Akira's head. He was flung across the room, and it wasn't that this was beautiful, it wasn't that, it was that it was **real** , felt **real** , felt_

_**"ENERGY DROP!"** ]]_

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

Akira's eyes snapped open, and he threw himself upright in horror. "Where....where am I, what is-- **oh god.** "

He was outside again. Just beyond the pig statue, surrounded by a circle of bloodied and pale friends. And it was his fault. He remembered everything.

"Joker! Joker, are you...please tell me you're all right. Mona and Panther have done their best to heal you, but we couldn't be sure--" Yusuke seemed desperate for reassurance from his seat beside him, and Akira realized he must have been laid out on his lap when he first awoke.

_I shouldn't be anywhere near him. I almost--_

_Monstrous._

Shakily, and ashamed, he buried his head in his knees. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry everyone. I remember, and I....why wouldn't you just hit me? Please, you should have hit me. Yusuke, I nearly shot you, and I...I'm just so sorry."

Akira restrained a horrified sob, and to his genuine shock, Yusuke fell forward and crushed him in a hug. "I was afraid. On many levels. But I know that wasn't you. It wasn't."

Ann dropped to her knees beside him, her cheek sporting the bloody evidence of a Dia-healed slash. "I couldn't hit you. I just couldn't. I'm sorry. But...she...." He followed her gaze to Makoto, freshly garbed in a steel mask and an aura of resolve.

She met his eyes and gave him one small, sharp nod. He returned it, genuinely grateful. "Thank you, Makoto. If you hadn't..." He remembered a bullet grazing blue hair he'd spent the morning picking paint from while laughing, and his heart clenched.

Ryuji spoke up quietly. "It's 'Queen' now, in here. If you're okay with it. We talked it over while you were out, and..."

_Talked it over....?_

"You're joining?"

Makoto's hand ran over the edges of her mask. "Yes. Having seen what I've seen...there's absolutely no way that I can back away now. I'm with you all, if you'll have me."

_That's...so she already has a code name. Sounds like it was decided without me, and this is just a formality. I don't know how I feel about that._

_....but I failed as a leader today. So whatever they've decided. I'll support it._

In the end, he simply said, "Of course."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This brainwash moment actually happened to me in-game, in Kaneshiro's palace. It was a New Game +, so Joker was ridiculously OP. I was distracted, was ambushed by Leanan Sidhe, got brainwashed, and my way-too-strong Joker nearly wiped the floor with his own team. 😭


	46. The Other Side of the Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of dialogue in this one, but hopefully you find it worthwhile. Akira, guilty and overwhelmed, seeks advice from two very different sources, and struggles with just how to take that advice to heart.
> 
> Dreams spur him forward, and an unexpected tool from another team is presented as a grim possibility of aid.

That evening, after Yusuke went to bed, Morgana purring the foot of his futon, Akira curled up alone and finally allowed himself to cry, as quietly as he could.

_I've been afraid of being useless, but today...today I was worse than useless._

It wasn't a ragged, ugly, snotty cry like he'd had the other day, in front of Sojiro. In fact, he could barely make tears, despite feeling like he desperately needed to. This horrible, heavy, sinking weight had frozen his chest, and it felt like the only way to purge it was with tears which just wouldn't come. It hurt.

_I wanted to fight. I wanted to charge in, to show that I would never be helpless again, and instead....instead I..._

His eyes flickered to a bundle of paper in the trashcan beneath his desk, knowing that the model pistol he'd brought into the Palace that day was concealed inside. He never wanted to use it again, knowing that every time he held it, he'd remember nearly shooting his boyfriend in the face.

_Yusuke....he walked right up to me, hands out, because he was **so sure** that I'd snap out of it and see him. And I--_

Akira's breath seized, and he curled into himself, pressing his forehead into his knees.

_What if...what if this is forever? What if I'm fooling myself, and I've lost my abilities? They'll....they'll be too kind to say so, but they won't need me anyone, will they?_

_They'll...they'll..._

A thought flashed through his mind, and once it had been planted there, he couldn't get it out.

_I'll check. I'll check, then. I can get into Mementos, can't I? If I hurry, the trains--_

In the darkened room, his face was illuminated by the bright rectangle of his cellphone as he checked the time. Immediately, a grimace of frustration was reflected in its glass.

_Too late. But I could walk? I could just walk to Shibuya, and..._

Even in this state, he knew that was a terrible plan. But what else could he do? He considered waking Yusuke, but rousing him to essentially say _, "Hey, remember that time I almost shot you in the face today? I'm freaking out over my inability to make sure it won't happen again,"_ felt far too painful to be possible.

His chest tight, Akira scrolled through his phone contacts. Who could he talk to? He knew that Ryuji or Ann would pick up and listen, but would they have answers?

_They...I don't want them to lose confidence in me. Someone whose life **doesn't** depend on me?_

He tried to imagine what Iwai would tell him.

_"Maybe...uh... **don't** shoot your friends? You seem really torn up about what amounts to a toy gun. Should I not be sellin' to you, kid?"_

Akira didn't want to be worried about, watched, scrutinized. His eyes fell on another contact that he'd yet to text once.

_Someone who seems unlikely to judge..._

And then another.

_And sometime who has been there, maybe? He even said that his abilities have faded over time._

_It's late, but maybe one of them will reply. Embarrassing, but...._

      **Akira** : This is Akechi-kun, right? This is Akira Kurusu. We met at Leblanc a few days ago. I'm sorry to text so late, but do you have a minute to talk?

He waited a few minutes. No reply. Opening another window, he sent a separate text.

      **Akira** : Yu? This is Akira. Do you have a minute to talk about something related to our conversation the other day? Sorry, I know it's late.

Yu replied immediately, to his relief and surprise.

      **Yu** : Don't worry about the time. I'm usually up pretty late. Glad to talk, but we should probably call if it's about that.

Akira glanced into the darkened attic, listening to Yusuke's soft breathing and Morgana's snuffles. He didn't want to wake them, but he could take this downstairs.

      **Akira** : Ok. Give me a second and I'll call.

Carefully, he rose from his bed and crept downstairs, doing his best to avoid any floorboards that he knew to be particularly creaky. The cafe at night was eerie as always, lit only by a small light over the stove and the thin outline of streetlamps around closed blinds. He curled up in the booth nearest to the door and dialed Yu's number.

<< _Hello? Akira?_ >>

Despite his assurance that it was a fine hour to call, he sounded tired, and Akira tried not to feel guilty over it.

"Yeah, it's me. Thanks for being willing to take my call."

<< _Of course. I honestly expected to hear from you earlier than this...but maybe all of that information at once was a little overwhelming?_ >>

_It wasn't that...I just...wanted to be able to figure out things on my own. And even though I trust him so far, I don't want to outright state what we're doing._

"Something like that."

<< _But you had a question? Go ahead, I'm glad to answer if I can._ >>

Akira leaned back against the cool upholstery of the booth's seat, considering what to say. Anything relating to being a Wild Card, or Personae in general, wouldn't be compromising, right? Since Yu had had the same experience?

"Before your experiences...faded, when your group was still active, were you ever unable to summon your Persona? And...and if you were, was there a solution for it? Or a way to force it?"

Yu sounded genuinely shocked in his reply, and Akira's heart sank.

<< _Unable to summon it?! No, that's entirely new to me. Is it **everyone** in your team?_ >>

Trying to keep the misery from his voice, Akira admitted quietly, "No, just me. And it's not...I don't think I've lost them entirely. I can still feel them there. I think it's an..." How could he even phrase it? "... _obstacle_ of something we are working through right now. So I was hoping there was another way. But if you don't know..."

_This was a mistake, wasn't it?_

<< _I'm sorry. I'm trying to think--that must be frustrating, and frightening. I can only imagine how I would have felt in your position._ >>

"With your team?"

<< _Yeah. I...give me a second to think. Forcing it doesn't sound healthy, Akira, given that it's tied to our psyches._ >>

_Definitely a mistake._

Akira rubbed his eyes with his palm, trying to remain focused. Trying to ignore the growing dread in his gut. "I know. But it would only be temporary, I...I think. And if I can't...."

Yu grew quiet, and solemn. He paused for a moment.

<< _Is it...life or death?_ >>

Akira thought of the blood he'd rubbed from his own face while trudging back to the entrance of cognitive Shibuya that evening. Blood that hadn't been his. "It could be."

<< _Then there might be something._ >>

A rush of energy flooded Akira's exhausted body, and he exclaimed, "Really?! Is there--" before Yu cut him off.

<< _Listen. I don't want you to get too hopeful. But another former Persona team that I've met in the past had an...item that they used to trigger it. Something in reality._ >>

_Something physical, that I can hold in my hand? Something that can't be taken away?_

"How do I get one? Another Persona team has it?"

<< _Mmhm._ >>

Yu sounded very cautious, and Akira tried to rein in his excitement. There were no easy fixes in this world. No miracles. He had to remember that.

<< _I have a contact--a friend--that I can ask, if this truly is an emergency._ >>

"It is," Akira assured him.

<< _But I need you to know, this isn't a promise, other than a promise to try. There aren't many of these things left, and the people who still have them are probably not going to be happy to part with them. On top of that, there's the possibility that it simply won't work for you. And, Akira.._ >>

"Yes?"

<< _Listen. If I can do this, I don't need any kind of payment or reward. I'll try, because I trust you. And because I've been in a similar place, and I know the lengths that I would have gone to to take care of my friends. So I need you to promise me something._ >>

_More promises...but if he can actually do this, I'll have to make it one I can keep._

"Promise what?"

<< _I don't have a terrible relationship with the people I'll be asking about this, but I'll still be sticking my neck out a bit. So please, whatever is going on...whatever you do to resolve it, make sure you keep to the standards you set for yourself in the beginning of this._ _I..._ >>

Yu's voice drifted, tinged with the recollection of an old memory.

<< _I know it can be tempting to let your ethics slide, in the heat of the moment. My team and I, we once almost...killed...someone who was ultimately innocent. Because we were furious, and we were afraid, and we were out for vengeance. I think, if I'd ever been at risk of losing my own Persona--of losing myself--it would have been then. That intensity and need and fervor can start a landslide if you don't have people around you with the strength to check it._ >>

_He sounds like Chihaya, with that last bit.  But..._

Yu laughed nervously.

<< _I'm sorry. I don't mean to lecture. That's never been my style._ >>

"It's okay." Akira meant it. What Yu had told him...it must have taken a lot to admit, and it humanized the older Wild Card. Akira related to it, whether he wanted to or not. "You're right. And it's a good thing to remember."

_Did this start for revenge, or for helping people? I think I know what the others would say, but sometimes...I wonder if I ever really figured that out for myself._

<< _That's a relief. Then, can you make me that promise? If you're in a crisis, you won't try to go it alone. And if I can get this for you, it'll be used to keep your team safe, and with your original principles?_ >>

"I can make that promise."

_I hope._

<< _Okay. Then give me a few days, and I'll make some calls. Luckily I'm still in Tokyo until the weekend. I'll text as soon as I know anything._ >>

"Thanks, Yu. It means a lot--I--I know that we just met, but..."

<< _It's okay. I've been there._ >>

"Yeah. Well, goodnight."

<< ' _Night. Hope you can get some rest._ >>

Akira closed his phone and held it to his chest, sinking to lay down on the bench seat with a heavy heart.

_I'll have to wait longer? And risk more of those..._

**_[[ ........ ]]_ **

_....texts? We only have two weeks. And he said himself that this might not even work._

In the darkened cafe, a sense of hopelessness overwhelmed him. He laid there, listening to the creaking of the building, the slow ticking of a clock, the occasional evening motorist passing down the main street, sinking into his gloom.

A buzz against his chest, and Akira's phone briefly lit up.

_...a text? Oh. I'd forgotten that I sent one to **him** too._

      **Goro Akechi :** Good evening! Or should I say 'Good morning' at this point?  This is a surprise, although not an unwelcome one. I can spare a few minutes, if you're still awake.

Akira considered letting the text go unanswered. He could plausibly claim that he'd fallen asleep after sending the initial one.

_It wasn't a good idea to contact him, anyway. If he **is** a detective, and one who dislikes the Phantom Thieves on top of that...I don't know._

He stared at his phone in the dark. Slowly, despite himself, he tapped out a reply.

      **Akira** : thanks for replying. yeah, I'm still up. do you mind continuing our conversation from the other day? I have a question for you.

      **Goro Akechi** : Certainly! Although I can't promise that I'll have answers. Go ahead.

_How do I phrase this in layman's terms?_

      **Akira** : we talked before about doing what it takes to meet your goals, and about doing what it takes to survive. What do you do if you're in a situation where the skills that you have built are totally useless?

      **Goro Akechi:** Going straight to it, aren't you? You certainly don't disappoint when it comes to interesting topics of conversation. May I ask about the specifics?

      **Akira** : sorry, but no.

      **Goro Akechi:** Doubly intriguing, but that's fine. In my experience, no skill is ever fully useless. You may just have to adjust your perspective.

_I'm not sure what I expected. I guess I should have known that a vague question would get an equally vague, useless answer._

Akira closed his phone, exhausted. This attempt at reaching out for help felt more tiring than simply going it on his own.

The phone buzzed again.

_....more?_

      **Goro Akechi** : In all of the old stories, when a palace cook wants to kill his king, he doesn't reach for a sword. He reaches for poison.

      **Akira** : Poison? I understand the metaphor, but...

      **Goro Akechi** : Is that too morbid of a hypothetical? I'm simply trying to suggest that there is a flip side to every coin. Perhaps the skill you thought to be worthless can come through for you, if you think of a way to use it differently.

_But how would I use a Persona differently? I guess it's true that I was still able to use my Third Eye without summoning it. But that isn't combat oriented at all._

      **Akira** : It's not too morbid, no. I guess that's...food for thought? thanks.

      **Goro Akechi:** No need for thanks. Talking through this is actually helpful on my end as well.

      **Goro Akechi** : Speaking of "food," here's another way of thinking of it:

      **Goro Akechi:** If you're starving, you won't care which part of an animal you eat. Even something you'd think was disgusting, and utterly distasteful could be the thing that saves your life in that moment. Sometimes, you need to be willing to make use of every part of yourself.

_But thats....he couldn't know what he's saying to me._

With a shudder, Akira recalled the low, dark voice of his dreams. The one that had insisted....

**_[[ .....You are you, and I am me, and I am you, and you are me._ **

**_You'll see that soon, whether you want to or not..... ]]_ **

      **Akira** : that idea is frightening, to be honest.

      **Goro Akechi** : Is it more frightening than failure?

      **Akira** : I'm not sure.

      **Goro Akechi** : Well, when you sort that out, I'm sure you'll have your answer. I'm afraid I have to say goodnight for now. I have a busy morning ahead of me.

      **Akira** : of course. sorry to keep you, but thanks for the advice. I'll think on it.

      **Goro Akechi:** As will I, Kurusu-kun.

The conversation over, Akira separated the blinds with his fingers, staring through the thin slice of window into the moonlit street. Yongen-Jaya was peaceful, unlike his mind. He struggled to reconcile the very disparate pieces of advice he'd been given.

_"Keep to your principles?" "Turn the part of yourself that you hate into a strength?" How do you do either of those things when you're afraid of that part of yourself, and uncertain of your motivation to begin with?_

_In all of this, I've been driven forward by a desire to keep them all safe. First Ryuji, and then all of the others, one by one. But is that really a motivation?_

_Striding forward...if I've learned anything recently, it's that **that** is only likely to end in tragedy. Knowing that, I still...I have no desire to stop._

_So what **do** I want out of this?_

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

_[[ The watercolor world was a breathtaking sight, even for the second time. Akira smiled in his dream, watching the wind blow through shimmering blue-green trees, and Yusuke's face, beautifully entranced._

_In the shifting shadows of that soft, moonlit world, one of their earliest conversations replayed itself. The one where, in retrospect, he'd received his first glimmer of what Yusuke would come to mean to him._

_"It really is beautiful, isn't it? I'll never see anything like this again."_

_"Hm. That's likely true. Still, sometimes, in a dream...." Yusuke's gloved hand reached out to delicately pluck the smudge of a leaf from Akira's hair, and he leaned into the touch happily. As it had before, the green smear crumbled, then ran like water between his boyfriend's fingers. "...things come close."_

_Akira watched the shimmering liquid fall to the ground, staining crushed white chalk blue, green, silver, red, red, red, red--_

_(( No. What is this--?! ))_

_"Akira...see me, **please see me!** " Raising his eyes slowly, so slowly, following the thick trails of red, Akira recoiled in horror. Yusuke's hand, still outstretched, was leaking blood, pouring blood, a cascade that grew and billowed and overcame him, as he clasped that same hand to his face, just where Akira's bullet could have pierced him._

_"Yusuke, no! **Please, I didn't! I wouldn't!** "_

_Frantic, Akira grasped Yusuke's hand, struggled to pull it away from his face, to see, to show him--he was fine, he had to be fine, he hadn't shot him, this wasn't real, it wasn't--_

_But he couldn't pry it away. His hands, slick with blood, were useless, couldn't gain purchase, and his feet slipped, skidding in a thick, terrible pool of red._

_Akira hit the ground, his eyes still glued to Yusuke's face as it dissolved, running through his fingers in a gush of midnight blue and pale, pale white, and Yusuke's eyes were full of panic, and his mouth moved as if to cry out, but made no sound._

_Around him, the painted world cried out, warping and twisting and crackling and **burning**. Akira coughed, gagging on the taste of burnt paint and human ashes, and the last thing he saw before shielding his own face from both the flames and the horror was Yusuke's mouth, opened in a wide, helpless "O," running like paint to the ground._

_He closed his eyes, drawing his knees to his chest, clenching fistfuls of hair._

_(( This is a dream. This is a dream. Please wake up please please please wake up please I can't I can't-- ))_

**_"Who would you be pleading to, if this is your own dream?"_ **

_Akira felt an icy grip on his shoulder that chilled him to the bone, and it was as though all of the air had been sucked from the world in an instant. The flames receded into a gasping whirl of white, so white, so **nothing** that he feared for a horrible moment that he'd lost his sight._

_In this great nothing, a voice he'd come to realize was his own--his own, without sympathy, without a cause, without a motive other than its own slowly burning hunger for something impossible to define--whispered in his ear._

**_"As I said. Better? For that, you can thank yourself."_ **

_Akira shook his head violently, nauseated by vertigo as his eyes strained to reconcile the movement with the vast emptiness that surrounded him. "You're not...you're not the "Me" that I want. I already found myself, and Arsene--"_

**_"It's all the same, isn't it? Two sides to the same coin."_ **

_A flicker of movement, of **something** in the great empty drew Akira's eye. A coin spun in the air--a tiny, aluminum one-yen coin. He expected it to fall, to clatter on something, some ending point, some horizon, but no. It spun on its edge, on and on, slowly, so slowly that it should have lost momentum immediately. But it continued on, eerily, hypnotically._

**_"It doesn't matter which side is facing up when you spend it. You'll get what you want either way, isn't that right?"_ **

_Akira twisted suddenly, trying to find the source of the voice, but behind him, he found nothing but a greater expanse of nothing._

_"I'm not something to be spent!"_

_The cold voice turned mocking. **"Is that really how you feel? You could have fooled me."**_

_He shouted into the nothing, unsure of if he was trying to convince that voice, or himself, "And I...I can't, I just can't! The side of the coin...it matters! It has to matter. The side that I give them....it....it matters."_

_A breath brushed past his ear, and he flung his head to the side, desperate to see what was speaking to him. Still nothing. Sickly silky, the voice slunk its way into his mind. **"Oh, I know that's what you've told yourself. You curate your heart, you mirror back what you believe they desire. All for their affection. You cut yourself into these tiny pieces, so assured that if they can be diced 'just so,' no one will know who you truly are, and you will be loved."**_

_"Yes! So what if I do? So what?! If it works...if I give them my best self, isn't that right? Isn't it..."_

**_"IF it works. But surely you know that such a thing cannot work perpetually. Someday...the coin will fall."_ **

_Before his eyes, the flash of silver shuddered to a stop, then fell to its side. Akira crawled forward through the nothing to peer into the side that was revealed, then sobbed in horror. In a perfectly mirrored circle, his own face was reflected--featureless, perfectly smooth, perfectly **empty**._

_**"You know as well as I do--"** The voice took on a hint of amusement with that. **"--affection cannot be counted on to last forever. You've been burned in a way that has hollowed you out, more empty than the charred skeleton of our childhood bedroom. There is no escaping that fact."**_

_Akira wailed, staring into his own expressionless face,"I...I know. I know that. But how am I supposed to go on, knowing a thing like that? **I don't want to be alone!"**_

_A cold set of arms, too large, too wrong, embraced him from behind, sinking their icy aura into his heart, into his every breath._

_He felt too tired to fight it, too forlorn and lost to shake them away. They were something, weren't they? Something more than all of this empty?_

_(( Just for a moment. Just for a moment, I'll let it...I'll...))_

_The voice crooned in his ear, and it sounded so close to caring that he couldn't help but listen. **"You've torn yourself apart striving to be worthy of love...but that's the wrong goal."**_

_Akira leaned back into the cold, his breath slowing, his eyes fluttering. It felt like dying. "How...can it be wrong? Doesn't everyone want that?"_

**_"Perhaps. But you don't really need love, do you? Deep down, I know what you want."_ **

_"What...what do I want? I've tried to find that in myself, but I can't."_

**_"You don't want to be alone. You don't want to be left alone in the cold again."_ **

_Another flicker of eyelids, and he was watching his younger self from afar, his cold-blued legs shuddering on a splintered porch before a door that refused to open._

_"I know. But that's why--"_

**_"You think that love will lead you to not being alone? But what was it that finally allowed you through that door?"_ **

_Akira watched his younger self limp home, bare-footed, shivering, soaking wet. Watched a hand knock on the door. Watched lips move. (( "I'm sorry. I'll do it, okay?...I'll go back...so please...let me in." ))_

_The door opened, and his pale figure entered, returning to his home's dubious warmth._

**_"Better to become something irreplaceable. Love cannot be guaranteed, or defined. But need? Need is an inevitability."_ **

_"But I...."_

**_"'I won't be useless.' Those were your words, yes? Our words?"_ **

_(( Is **that**....my motive? That sad, small, selfish thing? ))_

_"Yes...I've always known that...but I'd hoped--I'd wanted--what can I give them--what use can I have, if I'm--"_

**_"Faceless?"_ **

_".....Yes."  Akira curled in on himself, sinking into white, so achingly, achingly cold._

**_"There is power in facelessness. If there's no "you," then who can the world possibly blame? Eat it all yourself, all of their fear and superstition and wailing, and allow the ones you love to reap the rewards with clean hands. I offer that to you as well."_ **

_"I...I don't know, I don't...maybe...maybe."_

_**"Think on it. The time fast approaches. But you know that too, don't you? After all, we are we."** ]]_

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
The next morning, Akira awoke with a pit of dread in his stomach. Still, he'd never been so happy to see the sunrise through his attic window--to see _anything_ , as long as it wasn't nothing.

The next several days passed in a blur of frustration. Akira told his friends of the hope he was holding out for Yu to come through, and they were cautiously optimistic, but still ready to press on their own way.

Together, during the wait, they tried to brainstorm some other method of working through their impasse. "There's gotta be something--some way to make him see you as a threat," Ryuji insisted over lunch mid-week.

"Like what?" Ann plucked a cherry tomato out of her lunchbox, then pinched it between her fingers until it oozed red. The sight made Akira's stomach turn, and he fought an odd urge to smack it out of her hand.

"I dunno. Like...actually threaten him? Do somethin' in reality like we did with Madarame? I'm down to vandalize that shitty-ass club of his if you are."

Panic rising in his chest, Akira shot down _that_ idea immediately. "We can't. You can't. Please don't even consider it. That only works if he knows that I did it, and if he knows, in reality, that I--"

Ryuji's face whitened. "Shit. No, definitely not. I'm sorry, man, I just...I wanna help you."

"I know." Akira gathered his resolve, trying to appear like he knew what he was doing. He couldn't bear it if they lost faith now. "We'll wait on Yu for another day, and if he hasn't contacted me by then, we'll go in again without it. More carefully. I...I won't carry all of our items again."

Ann laid a hand over one of his, insisting kindly, "Akira, none of us blame you for that. And you wouldn't blame us, if it had been reversed, right?"

"No. I wouldn't."

_But they....they're **more** than me. So that's why--_

"And we know this is temporary, and confined to Kaneshiro's Palace. Everything was normal in Mementos."

He'd insisted on entering Mementos as soon as he possibly could, Morgana and Yusuke in tow, Tuesday morning. 

Akira had been so relieved to see his Thief attire envelop his body that he'd run into Yusuke's arms immediately and just stood there, overcome and silent, in Mementos' entrance, for so long that they'd both missed their morning train and been late for school.

"As normal as Mementos ever is...but yeah, you're right."

"Good." Ann said the word brightly, as if that settled the matter. "But I'm okay with that plan, if everyone else is."

Ryuji nodded. "Fine by me. We'll make this work, Akira. So we're goin' in Saturday then, no matter what?"

"No matter what," Akira agreed, ignoring the warning in his heart.

 

  
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
Friday evening, curled up with Yusuke on his bed and struggling not to lose hope, Akira finally received the text he'd been hoping for.

      **Yu** : I have it. Can you meet me?

He showed the text to Yusuke, his emotions warring in his mind. Hope, and the surety that hope was inevitably a terrible trap. Gripping his hand, Yusuke nodded. "May I come with you? I'm curious to see just what this item may be."

"I'll ask."

      **Akira** : Yes, of course. Where? When? And do you mind if Yusuke comes with me?

      **Yu** : I'd just come to Leblanc, but the cafe is still operating, right? And yes, Yusuke is fine.  Hello, by the way, Yusuke!

      **Akira** : Yeah, for several more hours at least. Does it need to be somewhere private?

      **Yu** : I think that would be safest. Does Yusuke remember how to get to Kanji's apartment?

Reading over Akira's shoulder, Yusuke assured him, "I do."

      **Akira** : We can do that.

      **Yu** : Ok. Any time now is fine. I'll be here.

For the entire train ride and the walk up to the apartment, Akira's stomach was in knots. Was this item going to be what he needed it to be? Would it come with caveats, more promises he'd be afraid to break?

Yusuke seemed to sense his anxiety, and broke up the walk with commentary on his previous visit to the neighborhood with Kanji, and on his future hopes for artistic collaborations. "...do you think Ryuji would enjoy that? A replica of his mask? Oh, we're here."

Akira stood in front of the door, staring at its peeling paint, his heart in his hands. Relying on someone else...on something outside of himself...it was frightening.

He hadn't quite allowed himself to realise how unnerving it was until he was there, standing on the doorstep of that possibility.

"I do think he'd like that, Yusuke. But maybe without all of the added 'flair' you were considering. He might take it personally if you changed it."

Yusuke considered that seriously. "Ah. When you put it that way, I realize that I would feel the same. But, here, follow me. The apartment is just up these stairs."

The hallway leading to Kanji's apartment was overwhelming in its brightness, enormous windows letting in the full fury of the near-summer sunlight. Akira picked at his collar, feeling stifled, and let his eyes drift to the ground.

Yusuke continued brightly, "It's quite charming, is it not?"

Akira tried to see it, but his mind was too focused on what he was walking towards to see it. "Yeah, I-I'm sure." Yusuke frowned at his tepid agreement, but knocked on the door anyway.

When Yu ushered him inside, he seemed unnaturally grave. "Hi, Akira. Yusuke.  It's good to see you guys again.  Please, sit anywhere. Kanji and the others are out, so it's just us. Probably for the best. Ah...can I get you anything to drink?"

Akira shook his head. With his nerves the way they were at the moment, he probably wouldn't be able to stomach anything anyway. He settled himself on a barstool at the kitchen counter, avoiding looking at the strangely claustrophobic apartment.

_At least the blinds are closed. The hall was bad enough..._

_Ugh, what am I thinking? I feel like I'm desperate to find something wrong with this. Some excuse to rationalize why this will fail. Just stop it._

"Thanks, Yu, for doing this. So...this thing?"

"Right. It's right here." Yu walked slowly to a low table, littered with mess and scraps, and lifted a small silver briefcase from its nest in the clutter. He strode toward Akira, who held his hands out in nervous anticipation, but set it down on the counter instead, planting his own palm on it firmly.

"What is it?" Akira couldn't really feel irritated or surprised at Yu's caution. The fact that he'd gone this far for him in the first place had been a shock, after all.

Slowly, Yu undid the latches on the case, then opened it to reveal a small silver handgun, set carefully into foam that had been carved to perfectly fit its shape. Within the grip, a strange blue fluid glistened. "A gun?" Yusuke asked, sounding both confused and interested. "We have no shortage of those, in a way. How will this aid him?"

The gray-haired young man shook his head. "It's...not quite a gun. It's called an "Evoker." It doesn't fire bullets. You can't use it on its own to fight shadows."

Puzzled, Akira murmured, "Then...what? It's a model?"

  
"No, this is something very real. And speaking of models--" Yu stood across from him, drawing his attention with an intense and serious stare. "If I lend you this, you _have_ to promise not to fiddle with it. Do not attempt to take this apart."

Akira had a few questions after hearing that statement, but decided to lead with, "Will it break?"

Yu stared down at the Evoker nervously. "I don't know about _it_ breaking, but _you_ might. There's something in it, part of what makes it function that....well, from what I understand, it is incompatible with life."

Yusuke startled, eyes widening with alarm. "Will this be dangerous to him? Akira, if this is--"

"No, I...as long as you use it properly, it'll be safe," Yu assured him slowly. "Although you may not like how he'll have to use it."

Voice level, thinking, _'It can't be worse than literally ripping our faces off,'_ Akira asked, "How do I use it?"

Yu lifted the Evoker from the case, turning it in his hands with a look of vague distaste. "This thing...it triggers a Persona summoning by playing into the human defensive instinct for survival. It...makes you face the possibility of your own death."

"What?!" Yusuke laid a hand on Akira's arm and squeezed it hard. "I'm not certain that I'm comfortable with this."

Akira laced his fingers through Yusuke's, and shook his head, insisting, "I'm sure it'll be fine. Let's just listen." He looked back at Yu, and at the silver handgun. "How does it do that?"

"Right. I'll...just say it quickly and simply. While you are in that other world, you'll need to draw this, press it to your own head, and pull the trigger." Yu looked pained even saying the words. Yusuke's hand gripped Akira's so tightly that he began to cut off the circulation to his fingers.

Akira blinked slowly. That didn't sound....

_I mean, it's morbid, but...I guess that makes sense, on some level._

"Wait, you said it doesn't fire anything, right?"

Yu nodded. "Not bullets, anyway. It's...at least 90% symbolism. I think."

"You _think_?" Yusuke jolted, his voice deeply disturbed.

Thinking more practically, Akira wondered aloud, "The guns we use there also don't fire bullets in reality. They become 'real' there simply by virtue of looking real. Is there a chance that this will....uh...."

Yu greyed. "I didn't know that. I...our experiences are different, huh? I'd...um...advise a test shot, away from yourself, to be sure."

Akira nodded. "I can do that."

"But Akira! That sight....I....I'm afraid that this isn't healthy. Who would make such a thing?!"  Yusuke stammered, drawing as close to Akira's side as humanly possible without literally being in his lap.

"A laboratory that specialized in it. I don't know the specifics, I'm sorry." Yu sounded like he meant it, as he replaced the Evoker in its case solemnly.

Remembering his other question, Akira asked, "So you said this is a loan?"

The former wild card nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry about this...but I can't lend it to you for long either." Looking slightly ashamed, he admitted, "I didn't want to give away your identity, so I told her that I needed it myself. I'm leaving Tokyo on Sunday evening, and it'll need to be returned by then."

"But that only gives us..."

"Two days. I know. I'm sorry. I haven't been as much help as I've hoped to be, but...."

Akira took a deep breath, shaking his head.

_Two days. We can do a lot in two days. And maybe... maybe just summoning Arsene...or... something.... in there will be enough to prove that I'm a threat, and things will right themselves._

_They have to._

"Don't apologize. You've done more than I could have possibly earned. Thank you."

Staring at him curiously, Yu answered, his grey eyes clear but concerned, "You didn't have to earn anything. We're friends now, right? Sometimes that's all it takes."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, Akira's getting an evoker! But only for a minute 😅
> 
> Palace again next chapter, so hold on to your hearts.


	47. Awakening in a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big chapter, guys. Not a happy chapter, but as the final moment in Kaneshiro's Palace, I guess that would be clear. For anyone nervous after the earlier parts of this arc, know that there's nothing overtly sexual in how this plays out. However, there's definitely blood, horror, and quite a bit of mental unhappiness.

The Thieves clustered together on the landing in Kaneshiro's Palace, just outside of the secret passageway from the courtyard, staring uneasily at the Evoker in Akira's hand as he lifted it, then shot it into the air. Together, they flinched, expecting some sound, some report, some... _anything_ , but nothing issued from the handgun other than a quiet, empty click, and a flash of blue from the muzzle that could have easily been in their imaginations.

"Well..." Akira turned the device over in his hands, staring at the strange blue fluid visible through the thin glass window in the grip. "I'm not sure what I expected, but...that's good, I think. It didn't turn into a real gun, so I should be able to use it the way Yu described."

Ann's mouth twisted unhappily. "But to do something like that...I don't understand, Joker, how is something like that supposed to..."

Ryuji shook his head, his eyes darting from the gun in Akira's hand to the floor. "No way. No way, man. I know it's fake, but thinkin' of you sticking that thing in your own face and pulling the trigger....I don't like it."

"It's grotesque..." Makoto agreed uncomfortably. "But perhaps it won't be necessary?"

At that, Akira noticed Yusuke's eyes light up, and looked away from him unhappily.

_He's already made it pretty clear how distasteful he finds this thing. But why? I don't get it--it's just symbolic!_

_Then again, he's an artist. Pretty sure Yusuke's entire mind works in symbolism._

Still, Akira was frustrated. He'd found a possible solution, but now he had to battle his way through his teammates' hesitation to use it. "Mona, you know as well as any of us just how unlikely it is that we'll make our way through this without battle. If we're finishing this by Sunday night, we have to scout the rest of the route to the treasure today, and send the calling card tomorrow."

Morgana paced unhappily along the edge of the landing, keeping watch down the stairs. He nodded in agreement. "There's no way. Somebody like Kaneshiro...this guy isn't going down without a fight."

Akira gripped the Evoker more tightly. The thought of that fight...it was that more than anything that had gotten him through the past week. "And when that time comes, I'm sorry, but I refuse to sit it out. You guys--" He met the eyes of his teammates, trying to communicate his resolve. "--you wouldn't try to make me hang back. Not in this. Right?"

Their faces fell. Makoto alone kept his gaze, nodding in understanding. "I'd feel the same way."

"But man...why's it gotta be like _that_?"

Yusuke walked slowly to his side, then held a hand out, gesturing for Akira to place the Evoker in his grasp. He did so, although he was unhappy to part with it. "This thing...Yu said that a part of it was incompatible with life. Ever since, those words have unnerved me. I'm struggling to reconcile that with the fact that this was given to you as a tool to help preserve that very life."

He turned the gun over in his hands, examining it, running a finger along the muzzle. "It isn't new, this 'Evoker.' Can you see?" His fingertip prodded a series of dents and scratches in the casing that Akira genuinely hadn't noticed before.

Ann murmured, "So someone's used this. I wonder what happened to them."

"D'ya think they..." Ryuji trailed off, not finishing his question.

Akira saw the item's battle wounds a little differently. He took it back from Yusuke, speaking lowly. "There are so many of them. Here, here--dents, dings, an actual slice taken out of the base of the grip. This wasn't used just once. Someone used it--and stayed alive long enough to use it--for quite some time." And what was that, carved into the bottom?

He turned it over, revealing the etching to the light:

[[ 天田 ]]

Ann stared over his shoulder, speaking in a hushed voice. "'Amada?' That's a family name..."

Ryuji stared at the thin, unsteady carving, and frowned. "Scratchin' your name into somethin' like this...isn't that kinda childish?"

"Like you're one to talk," Morgana interjected halfheartedly, standing on his tiptoes in an attempt to get a view. Noticing this, Akira tilted the Evoker briefly downward for him.

"It had a previous owner..." Makoto murmured, her hand reaching unconsciously for her father's revolver, strapped to her side.

Yusuke nodded, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "So it seems. And one who identified enough with this item to wish to leave their own mark on it. That's..."

"It's kind of comforting, to me at least. There's some life in this thing, regardless of what Yu said." Akira nodded, lifting the Evoker. "So I'm going to try it."

 **"What?! Right here and now?!"** Ryuji shouted, his eyes wide.

"Ryuji, quiet!" Morgana hushed him, though he looked equally unsettled. "We've already lingered here a while, and if shadows come..."

Breathless, Akira insisted, "Yeah. Right now."

_I don't know if it will work. Will it work? Will it...._

He lifted the gun to his forehead, conscious of all of his friends watching him with beyond tragic expressions. He paused, uncomfortable. "Guys, I..." His finger hesitated on the trigger. "I can't do this if you're all watching. Can't you...look away?"

Ann shook her head, hair flying. "No, Joker. If you're going to do this, we're in this with you."

Yusuke agreed solemnly, stepping in front of him. "I won't simply avert my eyes from an ugly reality that you, yourself, will be experiencing."

_That's...._

Akira winced. "Okay. Okay, but I...." He took a breath, readjusting the Evoker. It felt too heavy in his hand, too cold against the flushed skin of his forehead. Despite his resolve, his hand trembled.

_I didn't think that this would be so hard.  That it would bother me.  Why?  Why am I so..._

_Amada...whoever you are...how did **you** do this? What motivated you to pull this trigger, again and again and again?_

_But if you could do it--then I--_

His heart pounding from the build-up, he squeezed his eyes shut and _pulled_.

((click))

Nothing.

_Nothing. No. No, goddamn it, **why?! Arsene, why?!**_

Akira flinched internally at the exhales of relief that his teammates released upon seeing what, to him, was an unbearable let-down.

**_WHY? Answer me?!_ **

**_~ I cannot know for certain. But I believe that I was born from a far different resolve than the one it took for you to pull that trigger._ **

_Resolve?! What's the point of that kind of distinction?! All I'm hearing is that this part of me, it's..._

"Useless..." Akira ground out the word from between gritted teeth, restraining the urge to fling the Evoker down the stairs. He had to return it to Yu on Sunday, after all. And if the movement attracted a shadow...there would be nothing he could do about it. "All of that...and it did nothing." He stuffed it into an inner pocket of his thin jacket, refusing to meet his teammates' eyes.

"Joker...." Ann laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry." She glanced down at Morgana, frustration and worry warring on her face. "Mona, do you have any idea why--"

Morgana shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Slowly, Akira forced himself to speak up. "I guess I lack 'the proper resolve'..." He laughed hollowly. "But what does that even mean? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

"I don't know..."

Yusuke reached a hand out, brushing the hair from Akira's miserable, embarrassment-reddened face. "You aren't useless. I promise you. And if it's a matter of resolve...perhaps you'll find it, as we continue deeper in."

_Find it?_

Akira breathed slowly, considering it. Trying to anticipate the emotion he'd feel in himself, finally coming face to face with Kaneshiro in battle. That...it was possible. "You could be right. And in that case..."

He shoved down his disappointment, his shame at failure, his self-loathing. "Is everyone okay with moving on? With trying to keep to the schedule we had planned? Because with my Persona or not, I don't want to let this place stand a minute longer than we have to."

"Yeah, man. Let's tear this place to the ground."

"I need that too. After everything..."

"Indeed. We're with you."

He nodded, starting for the stairs. "Then let's find the Treasure."

 

 

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

 

_Together, they pushed gruelingly through the Palace for an entire day, through sterile halls and battles with hulking, monstrous dogs, through grief and frustration and the ringing voice of Kaneshiro's inner thoughts in the vault hidden within the Palace's depths._

_Leaning from atop a tall metal scaffolding, Ann released her own rage and fury through fire. **"Carmen, burn them! AGILAO!"**_

**_~ But of course. We'll reduce these pitiful, ugly things to ashes. One by one, vengeance awaits us._ **

_Through the whirl of battle, Ann heard the sound again, the hollow ((click)) and flinched, knowing that just out of sight, Akira was trying again. Whenever he thought they weren't looking, whenever they were lost in battle, he'd pull the Evoker from his jacket, push the barrel to his forehead, and pull._

_She redoubled her efforts, back to back with Makoto, unleashing a twin swirl of nuclear fire._

_(( I know that he feels useless, but he's scaring me. He's scaring me, and I don't know what to do. ))_

**_"AGILAO!"_ **

**_"ZIONGA!"_ **

**_"GARULA!"_ **

_The thieves panted together, the last of their enemies reduced to nothing but scattered scorch marks on the floor. Akira gestured ahead, exhaustion and deteriorating nerves showing through in the heavy set of his eyes. "Let's move forward. Not many locks left now. We can finish this, right?"_

_Ryuji nodded, though he looked beyond ragged, clearly favoring his leg. "Y..yeah, man. One more push."_

_(( Ryuji...he's never going to admit when he needs to stop. Not that I'm any better. None of us want to let him down. ))_

_"Skull, hold still for a second. **Carmen, DIA!"** Ann didn't have much left in herself to give, but what she could..._

_"Thanks, Panther..." Ryuji stood a little more steadily. Not much, but hopefully enough._

_As they trudged through the remainder of the Palace, Ann's mind continued to wander to Akira. Wondering what she could have done. Recalling what she'd seen. What she'd heard. And her own uselessness._

_(( After that day...I'm not sure if it was wrong to do it, but I had to know. ))_

_She'd felt horrible, gaining scraps of Akira's past from that disgusting man. But she'd searched the internet the best she could, hoping for something, **anything** that would give her a better idea of how to help him. Hearing his name on Kaneshiro's lips...seeing the recognition in his eyes....it had terrified her._

_Wanting to avoid directly gaining information from that...disgusting...creature, she'd tried to search based on the little information that Akira had shared with them himself, inputting, " Kurusu house fire." "Akira Kurusu burning building." "Kurusu family home arson."_

_(( But I didn't find anything other than articles on fires local to Tokyo. If only I....how is it that we don't even know his home town?! ))_

_Ann stared at her leader's back, frustration and fear burning within her, then melted slightly at the sight of Yusuke's blue-gloved hand, reaching out and taking Akira's own._

_(( I think he trusts us. And I don't want to pry, and break that trust. I've been telling myself that he'll open up when he's ready to, but that didn't stop me from.... ))_

_Upon her first failure, her stomach sick with guilt, she'd searched the name she'd heard from Kaneshiro, huddled alone under her blankets in her empty, lonely house. " Okashi." "Okashi Kurusu Akira." But she'd broken her own resolve for nothing, only returning results for sweet shops and recipes for traditional candies._

_(( I should have known. And I guess it is probably a pseudonym. Which means we couldn't even put it into the Nav, right? ))_

_Ahead, Akira referred to a series of scavenged notes to input the last code necessary to open the enormous lock that was the true form of the Palace's lower labyrinth. His face grim, he said, "This should be it. Last one. There's a safe room nearby that we can use to infiltrate, so..." His voice shuddered slightly, and Ann watched Yusuke grip his hand more tightly._

_(( The one relief in all of this is that those two found each other. Yusuke...he can be a little hapless, but I feel better knowing that when Akira is home, he isn't ever truly alone. ))_

_Ann knew from experience how insidious loneliness could be. Especially at night, in the dark, in a place that by all rights is **supposed** to be comforting. Even more so now, with Shiho still in the hospital, struggling to recover._

_She briefly thought about her own home, in a bid to distract herself from her own aching ankles in those goddamned heels._

_(( Luxurious loneliness. I know that I don't physically want for anything, and my parents left a home here for me in Japan that nearly anyone would be happy to have, but... ))_

_Familiarity can become oppressive when you have no one to share it with, and most doors in her apartment remained firmly closed now. It was easier to let a door blend into the wall than to stare into an empty room._

_Ann kept to the kitchen, bathroom, and the nest of a bedroom she'd built for herself, willing her mind not to imagine the thick layer of dust that could have built up on her mother's vanity, where she'd spent so many bright childhood mornings playing with industry makeup samples, grinning toothily at her mother's light touch with a brush._

_Now, well...Morgana's brief stay had been the most liveliness her home had seen since Shiho.._

_(( No one else. That's why I'm doing this. No more sad, empty homes. No more families and friendships eroded by monsters. Because why is it-- ))_

_She glanced at Akira's back, her mouth set firmly in resolve._

_(( Why is it that the world keeps trying to eat my friends?! ))_

_She stepped forward then, shrugging off the memories, her whip held tightly in her fist. "I'm ready. Let's get out of here, then head back to reality to make that calling card. Fox, are you prepared for that?"_

_Yusuke nodded, his tail swishing like a cat ready to pounce. "I am. I shall work my fingers to the bone if necessary to have them prepared for tomorrow."_

_"So they **are** a necessary step. I have some thoughts that I can share later for their placement, if you'll allow me?" Ann chafed slightly at Makoto's offer, despite the resolve she'd made to do her best to forgive her. Some things weren't so easily pushed aside, regardless of how she'd forced herself to advocate for the older girl in the past._

_"All right." Akira lead them to the steel door and back into the labyrinth proper. "But for now..."_

_They stared through the gleaming metal hall, now leading in a direct line of sight to a large, cylindrical elevator. Morgana darted forward, pausing just outside of its polished glass doors. "There's no doubt. The Treasure is down here."_

_Ryuji pumped a fist, clear relief breaking through his exhausted, sweat-drenched face. "Hell yeah! Let's do this shit."_

_(( Tomorrow we'll end this. For all of us, but especially for Akira. If this is the only way I can help him... ))_

_"We'll burn this place to the ground. Everything Kaneshiro thinks he's earned...We'll make this place a grave for his selfish, disgusting greed."_

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

 

  
The stench was overwhelming. It hit the Thieves in an solid, visceral tide the moment the elevator doors opened.

Akira's eyes watered, and he slapped a hand to his mouth, watching his teammates follow suit.

"Ughhh this shit's disgusting. What the hell?! It wasn't like this when we came down here yesterday!"

"No, it wasn't."

The previous day, Akira had been unnerved by the continued...normalcy of Kaneshiro's Palace. The underground vault has been enormous and ostentatious, yes, but it had been simply that. A vault, gleaming, pristine, and empty except for the shimmering, amorphous idea of a Treasure, looming in the air in the center of the room. A Treasure that was now nowhere to be seen.

Everyone else seemed to realize this at the same moment. "The Treasure?" "Dammit, where is it?" "Has this happened before? How do we proceed?"

Yusuke answered Makoto's query with a nod, his mouth set grimly beneath his mask. "Yes. In Madarame's Palace, he seemed to anticipate our plans once the calling card was set and left a decoy, absconding with his genuine Treasure."

Ann glanced around the empty room, frowning, her face still covered by her hand. "But where would he have taken it? And what is that horrible smell? I can barely breathe. Ugh. Our costumes are going to smell like this forever."

Akira shook his head, gripping the Evoker in his hand despite its uselessness. He knew...after the decision he'd come to...it might work today. It needed to work. "We'll have to look. Something must have changed."

He opened his third eye, slowly pacing the room. To his surprise, the vault door itself seemed no more special than any other wall in the room.

_A decoy here as well? Then, where...?_

A strange movement to the air, and the undefined stench sank even deeper into his skin. Akira stared in the direction of the slight breeze and saw a curtain-- one of many set into the longest, most nondescript wall-- that was pushed just slightly off-center, one edge swaying barely perceptibly.

"There." Together, the Thieves crept across the edge of the room, drawing back the curtain. Ryuji gagged at the staggering wave of odor that blasted their faces in a hot gust of air.

"Oh..ugh, _fuck_ that's disgusting. Oh-- ew, I can taste it, aaagh."

_It...smells like death._

Akira's body filled with an overwhelming sense of horror and loathing. The path past the curtain was entirely unlit, the air a choking miasma, thick as molasses.

"We...have to keep moving forward, right?" Ann cringed, forcing herself to step forward.

"Panther...I'll...I'll give you my bandana, to cover your mouth, if you want." Morgana held out his scarf, and she took it from his hands, then tied it around his face instead, shaking her head.

"Your nose is more sensitive, right Mona? I'll be fine. But thank you."

Akira stepped into the dark, feeling his way forward with slowly dragging feet. As the curtain closed behind them, and they moved forward, everything was drenched in a pure, oppressive darkness.

That emptiness reminded him of the void in his dreams, and the hair on his arms stood up in cold, nervous anticipation, despite the humid, putrid atmosphere.

_I'm fighting. I'll fight any way that I need to._

He held his breath, as a voice answered. He couldn't entirely be certain of if it was something separate calling to him, or simply his own thoughts, recalling the resolution he'd made, in the night.

**_~ So, will you accept me, then?_ **

_...I don't know._

**_~ If it is what they need?_ **

_I don't know._

**_~ If it is what_ you _need?_**

_..........if it is. If it is, then I..._

They continued in silence, one step after another, hands dragging along the wall.

_It's so....damp. It's muggy in here, and ugh. The wall feels almost...oily. Sometimes it feels like it's moving, like there's something--_

A scurrying sound, and Ann screamed, " **Ahh**! Oh my god, what was that?! A **rat**?! It touched my foot, I don't like this, I don't like this at all!"

As her cry of alarm sank into the heavy air and dissipated, Yusuke murmured, "There's certainly...something here. This place is too wet, too warm. I...eughh. I think there is something in my hair. Simply water, I hope..."

"I...am trying not to think about it. Can't we press on? Please?" Makoto's voice quivered, and Akira couldn't help but wonder,

_Is she afraid of the dark? Not that I can blame her..._

"I'm sorry everyone. Hopefully it won't be much farther."

One more step, and Akira caught himself, calling back over his shoulder, "Everyone, stop. There's stairs. We'll have to watch our step. Unless--I should have thought of this in the beginning, but can someone make a light?"

Holding up the rear, Ryuji coughed, then replied, "Don't mind if I do." A shifting of leather, and then a gleam of light pricked the darkness, illuminating his face. He held up his hand, rubbing together two fingers and a thumb to create a spark. He smiled for one moment, before his eyes went wide. "Ughh. Oh man. Was **that** ever a mistake."

**"Ughhh!" "Oh, CRAP!"**

What the darkness had hidden was now revealed--walls, crawling with insects, larvae dripping from the ceiling, black, glistening centipedes scurrying along the floor.

**"PUT IT OUT PUT IT OUT!"**

**"NO SKULL DON'T YOU DARE, KEEP IT ON, I--OH CRAP, OH--"**

**"SOMETHING IS IN MY HAIR! THIS IS--AH!"**

Succumbing to panic, the Thieves rushed down the stairs, clenching their arms to their bodies, their shoulders cringing, trying to guard their necks from what they could now see surrounded them--a massive nest of bottom feeding horrors.

**"Oh god. There's something--I can't tell if it's on my suit or _in my suit_ , Queen, please, can you tell, I...it is taking everything in me not to set this room on fire right now and if it is in my suit I will lose that battle tellmerightnowplease--"**

**"I've got it! You don't want to know what it was. Just keep moving, I--ughh oh god that was my face I'd recommend keeping your mouths shut I--"**

Akira lead the charge, lest he risk being trampled. "Everyone, just move. I can see light ahead. We're almost--"

The words were stolen from his mouth as the open door ahead illuminated the cracked tile beneath his feet in a sickly pink glow. Unable to lose his momentum, he flung the door open and found himself inside...despite everything in him crying out to retreat.

The lounge.

"No--!" "Why this...odious place? This man is..."

Akira struggled to continue to function, eyes darting around the ominously glowing room and its dank opulence. "Kaneshiro...his shadow isn't here either, but--"

Beside him, Makoto recoiled in horror, eye-to-eye with her own cognitive double. 

She was seated sedately among a sea of others, perched on every available surface. The floor, the arms and backs of the low, suede couches, legs slung beneath tables and around armchairs and over each other, a clashing menagerie of school uniforms, business attire and suburban comfort, all waiting, together, in the dark.

Cognitive Makoto blinked slowly. "Are you here to wait, too? It won't be long, regardless of what one might hope. There's a job for everyone here. You look like you might specialize in...burglary?"

Clenching her iron-knuckled fists, Makoto shook her head. "We aren't here for that. That's not what we're for--what any of us are for!"

Her double leaned back, shrugging blandly. "If you say so. Selfish, isn't it?"

Ryuji started forward, voice low, "Selfish? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Ann placed a hand on his arm, insisting, "She's just a cognition. She isn't...."

"Yes, selfish. If you won't work, you know that someone else will simply have to take your place. The world demands to be fed, after all. And no one is better at satisfying that desire than Kaneshiro."

The cognition's eyes flickered toward the dull steel fire door lifelessly, and Akira demanded, his heart pounding, "Is he there then? Through there?" The door was open just a crack, just enough for something odd to flicker in and out of it. Tiny, dark, darting shapes, impossible to focus on in the dim light.

Cognitive Makoto nodded. "I wouldn't recommend entering. It's...no one should, before their time. Although...." Her eyes slid to the door again, laced with the first visible emotion they'd seen from the construct. "...It's almost my own turn."

Her eyes focused on Akira then, and an eyebrow raised curiously. "But didn't I...haven't I already seen you in there? Through the open door?" She shook her head, turning away. "I must have mistaken you for someone else. There's no exit through there, after all."

"He's in there." Akira stepped toward the back room, ignoring the way the Evoker shook in his trembling hand, the way his heart lay like a rock in his stomach.

The last thing he heard before he flung the door open was the Fake Makoto insisting, with helpless complacency, "Why rush it? You should last as long as you can, get more worth out of your life."

Flies. Flies. That had been the strange motes, darting around the doorframe, the only thing capable of escaping the room. The only thing...because everything else inside was....

Ann's voice shuddered. "Dead. Dead, they're all--"

"That stench, it was--" Yusuke staggered on his feet, his gaze frozen in abject horror. Even Akira....he...he couldn't move, this was....

A pile of human bodies, entangled, anonymous, filled the floor of a room that was lit only by the hellish red glow of an incinerator.

_Dead, dead, they're all--wait, **no--**_

A twitch of movement, the plaid of pants clearly belonging to a fellow Shujin student stiffening, flailing. Elsewhere a hand, still twitching in the pile--limbs, still moving--a glazed, open eye, twitching.

Barely realizing he said it aloud, Akira breathed, _"Is my face in this pile? Is what he did...To him, it was just one meaningless moment in a sea of consumption."_

In the center of this sea of ruined lives, _something_ moved. Something bloated, corpulent, buzzing, flesh roiling with the movement of a thousand swarming flies. It shifted, lifting the leg of a still-twitching college student, then reached out a hand the color of bruises to dig though his pocket. A hint of a smirk passed over its face as it tossed a wallet into a pile of scavenged loot, and that smirk, it was, it was--

**"Kaneshiro!"**

The bloated figure turned, his insectoid wings shuddering in the dark. "More _volunteers_?" He sneered, raising his chin, releasing the leg he held to hold his arms out in welcome. "I can always use more product. This world demands consumption, and I've learned that the only way to avoid being devoured is to feed it yourself. So come on in. Join them."

Akira lunged toward him, only to be sidestepped and entirely ignored as Kaneshiro strode toward his teammates.

_**What?!** He--he won't--_

He clenched his fist, hair billowing in the hot blasts of air emanating from the glowing incinerator, face illuminated in red.

Akira shut his eyes for one moment, and a wave of vertigo overcame him, a sensation of falling through the floor, of sinking, and he snapped his eyes open. Akira saw his feet, still on solid ground, heard Morgana shouting as he darted forward, "He's just a fly! A fly, feeding on the lost remains of hundreds of lives. Let's end this!" and he felt lost, unseen,

_Still won't see me?  Still won't see me as a threat? Still won't--_

**"Aaaaaaaugh! No, no, let go, let--"**

The room awoke, a nightmare come to life, as a hundred broken hands grasped in the darkness, clutching at the Thieves' feet, following Kaneshiro in a wave like a horrendous, apocalyptic tide. Ann struggled against one, and Akira dashed forward, stabbing it with his knife until it released its grip.

\--Not enough!

More shouts rang out in the claustrophobic room as the door slammed shut of its own accord, and all around him, hands grasped, glazed eyes widened, and Kaneshiro rose on buzzing wings to watch the Thieves be engulfed by his own army of the lost.

**"Shit! Help, I, aghhh!"**

**"Skull! Crap, somebody--!"**

**"I've got you! I'm coming!"** Akira shouted, taking advantage of the fact that Kaneshiro seemed to refuse to see him to fly as fast as he could to his friends' sides, slashing, severing, aiding in each of their struggles.

But there were too many bodies, this was happening too fast, and hovering above them all, Kaneshiro's sickeningly smug voice called down, speaking over their panic, "Have you heard the story of what happens to a captured pot of crabs?"

Akira tried to block out his voice as he dashed, lunged, dodged Ryuji's frantic bursts of lightning, tasted the sizzle of putrid air.

"Once caught, they're all desperate to escape their fate. Desperate to not be devoured. So they try to crawl out. To climb up the side of a sheer wall, though the odds are against them."

Yusuke gasped, and Akira flung his head to the side just in time to see his body snatched by hands, dragged into the pulsing pile of limbs, a hand slapped across his mask, the only part of his face still visible a frantically grimacing mouth. **"NO! FOX!"**

_**‐‐Yusuke!?!  You CAN'T!!** _

"If they all worked together, they could escape the pot. They could form a bridge with their bodies, and one by one, escape their deadly circumstances."

Akira jumped, reaching for a blue-gloved hand, and missed. It was dragged down, lost in the writhing mass of death.

**"NO!  No, no, no, no--"**

"But they don't. Whenever one crab manages to climb high enough to taste freedom, one of the others grasps him, desperate to use his strength as their own leverage. The crab falls back into the bucket, and they are all lost."

 **"Oh no. Fox, no, no, Fox, no--"** Akira clawed through the bodies desperately, ignoring how it bloodied his hands, how his shoulders shook, only to hear the cries of his other teammates and fling his head to the side to see the rest, their eyes panicked, just as they too were swallowed.

Kaneshiro hovered over his rotting nest, and finished. "There is no escape in this society from being consumed. Human selfishness ensures  _that_. So what's so wrong about finding a way to profit from it? Huh? It's that, or be added to the pile myself."

_They're gone. They're gone they're gone they're no no no no this room, this man, he'll eat them he'll_

**_~ Then do what is necessary._ **

As that cold, iron voice rang through his mind, Akira's vision flashed to the Evoker, discarded between his kneeling legs. The world slowed, tunnel vision blocking out everything but silver, the thudding of his heart drowning out the slithering of Kaneshiro's victims, the buzzing of the endless, writhing mass of flies. Everything _pulsed._

_I pushed this power away. After the battle with Kamoshida. I was afraid. More than that, I feared the looks on their faces, after they saw me._

_But I've found something I fear more than that._

His eyes narrowed, creasing in horror as he clenched his head between his hands, staring down at the gun.

_I want to be safe, want them to be safe, even if that means becoming a demon._

_We aren't heroes in this story. So why tear myself apart, trying to hold to a standard for a role I'm not even meant for?_

_We aren't heroes. We're Thieves._

**_~ Will you drink my tonic?_ **

With shaking hands, Akira lifted the Evoker, pressing it to his forehead. "Yes."

He pulled the trigger. For one brief, terrible instant, everything went white.

Before him, rising from the death and the ruin, Arsene appeared, but wrong. He flickered, struggled, strained, holes appearing in his image like camera film, burning away.

Akira's first Persona, that thing born from his own heart, the entity that he'd clung to out of a surety that it would help him to retain his own soul, cried out in anguish.

**_~ Do--o--n--t---I---I---_ **

**_~ I---w-i--L--L--_ **

"I'm sorry. To both of us. But if you aren't the part of me that is needed, then I will--"

 ** _~ Do what is necessary,_ **the cold voice agreed.

As Arsene writhed before him, dancing in the flickering firelight and the crawling shadows of a hundred grasping arms, Akira's palms begin to fill with a dark, thick, swirling liquid. It slipped thickly through his fingers, overflowing, but was continually replenished. An endless fountain of slithering dark, pulsing in time with his own heartbeat.

**_~ Drink this tonic of blood and rust and ashes, and heal the weakness that you've permitted to ail you._ **

_I fought you, and it was fucking pointless, wasn't it? What a waste of time, for someone who's clearly forsaken by any deity who might have bothered to take an interest._

_If this is how things will be, I might as well spend what's left of this goddamned year using myself up. Out there, I'll smile, and be the friend that is worthy._

_In here...? I'll be whatever monster I need to be to survive._

Akira lifted his palms to his lips, and the moment the liquid hit his tongue, the pulsing stopped, his blood running cold and stagnant.

It was bitter, and frigid. Thick, clotted, tarry, vile. Like trying to swallow a jellyfish whole. He gagged, trying desperately to cough it back up, his eyes wide with panic, clutching at his convulsing throat, only to feel it settle numbly into his bones, a slowly encroaching cold that overwhelmed his senses, leaving nothing behind.

_This is...this is....I...I...._

_I can feel it. I **know** you--I--_

**_~ Because I am thou, and thou art I._ **

Akira staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth, barely aware that his thieving outfit had reasserted itself, but tattered. His coat worn thin, like something dead, clawed from its grave at the bottom of an endless midnight sea. The dripping liquid remaining in his left hand coalesced into a thick black strip of fabric, draped over his open, waiting palm.

Akira wrapped the rough, tattered blindfold around his eyes, accepting facelessness.

His voice breaking, he bared his teeth to call out, " **Yes! We are we! I know that now! I'm ready!"**

**"Come, HYDE!"**

At his manic, shrieked declaration, Arsene's flickering body seized. Ripples ran through him, the cloth of his red tailcoat writhing like something was tearing him apart from the inside.

His mouth yawned open in horror, jettisoning soot in an endless tide, like someone coughing up blood only to spill their entire life onto the floor.

His ruffles unravelled, his wings' black feathers curled and disintegrated, leaving only a terrible, skeletal frame that embraced him, crushing into his flailing body to become blades that jutted unevenly from shuddering, clawing arms.

A deafening ((CRACKKKK)) rang out, blasting away the shuddering bodies beneath him, flinging open the steel door, and the Persona's skin crackled, streaked with black, his features lost in endless, icy smoothness. His chains shattered, clattering to the floor, the iron so cold that it _burned_  what it touched.

In a whirlwind scented with iron and blood, Akira smiled a terrible, twisted, sideways smile, his lips barely visible beneath the frayed black shroud, and the terrible figure before him mimicked it, listing to one side.

The mass of bodies eradicated, the freed Thieves stared up in a combination of awe and horror. Morgana's voice trembled as he whimpered, "Joker...his Persona...it cannibalized itself.  Arsene is.... _Hyde_?"

"Joker..?" "That's...oh god, that's him, right?"

"That Persona....it's like when..."

"He promised he wouldn't--"

"No, he promised he wouldn't _unless he had to_. And now--is this..is this our fault?"

Those voices barely present in his consciousness, Akira laughed, manically, unsettlingly, wavering on his feet like a drunk, eyes wide beneath the blindfold. "Ha! This...this is...if I'd known...oh, wow, I--"

He tilted his head back, angling his cloth-shrouded face toward his enemy, his grin widening. Now. Now Kaneshiro was afraid.

**_Good._ **

"Hyde. End this." Akira snapped his fingers once, and Hyde rushed forward, dragging the squirming insect down to earth.

Kaneshiro shrieked, "No! I refuse! I won't be dragged down! I've put in the work to escape from that, and I'm never going back, I--aaa--eeeeeee--" His voice was cut off by frigid, iron claws, pressed into his throat, choking, squeezing, poised to end.

His third eye his only sight, Akira strode slowly over to the pitiful figure, gratified to see this odious man's wings clipped, ignoring the pain spreading through his body--the price he paid for the devastating physical attack. "You didn't want to see me as a threat. But now I'm the one who doesn't see you."

Hyde's grip tightened, and Kaneshiro's Shadow's face purpled even deeper, gasping, tears streaming down its face. Hyde squeezed, flickered, and ice bloomed along the shadow's throat, its flesh _creaking_ , cracking, and--

**(((SNAP)))**

The shadow's throat crumbled into dust beneath his fingers, its body dissolving into a putrid ooze the color of rotted meat. Satisfied, for now, Hyde receded in a thick, swirling torrent of black.

As Akira stood, gasping, a figure crawled its way out of the ooze. Kaneshiro. It sobbed, curled into itself, and he was overcome with rage over its self-pity.

_Even now. Even now, he--_

He started forward again, prepared to end things once and for all.

_He should die. For everything he's done. Why? Why should he get to--_

"Joker! Stop!"

"Please, wait! This is--the battle's over!"

The sound of slow, limping footsteps, as the Thieves pulled themselves from the floor to stand at his side.

Firmly, dispassionately, Akira insisted, "I'm going to kill him. It's better than he deserves."

The man before him was broken, wailing, pleading, "Please! Fine, just take it, take it!" Kaneshiro gestured with shaking arms to the pile of wallets, wedding rings, bank cards...his mementos of a thousand stolen lives.

Akira shook his head, stepping forward, gripping his knife, intending to plunge it directly into the man's face. "It's not enough. It'll never be enough."

Behind him, Yusuke shouted, reaching out to grip his arm, "No! Joker, you're not a murderer!"

"Not **yet**. Give me thirty seconds."

Makoto looked on with horror. "Is this what you do? Is this how you....?"

Morgana shook his head violently, insisting, "This isn't how we do things! Please, remember, Joker--there's a _reason_!"

"C'mon man stop this!" Ryuji shouted, grabbing his shoulder. Akira flinched away furiously. "There's no way I'm letting you become a killer!"

"Letting me....how is that fair, huh?"

" _Fair_?"

"When it came down to it, each of you....with Kamoshida, with Madarame...you were given the choice, weren't you? Yeah, you chose differently, but still....where's my choice, huh? Why don't I get that?" He raised his knife, mouth set with grim intent.

"Joker....."

"No, I get it. I see. Even here, even you...."

_I knew that this part of me...that they couldn't...but I..._

_When do I get what I need?! What I--_

Stepping in front of him, ignoring his growl of frustration, Ann reached out with trembling hands to peel away his blindfold.

She gasped at something she saw there, but swallowed, continuing with what she'd intended to say. "I know. I know how you feel. Kamoshida, I...I almost..." Her eyes hardened with certainty. "But then I realized that it was just as you said. Death was too good for him. Make him live out the rest of his life, not just guilty, not just alone....but bored. Without everything he valued enough to do these horrible things!"

Yusuke added, quietly, "So we'll change him. Whether he deserves it or not, it may be the greatest punishment we can mete out."

Akira shook his head, his blood still aching for an end. "But what is the difference....between murdering someone and changing them? I don't...I don't know if I see it anymore."

_If he changes...is he effectively dead anyway? Is he..._

Lower in his mind, he pushed away the addition, before it could form, of

_...Am I...?_

"Every living being is capable of change. It's the dead who are not." Yusuke tried to take his knife, but Akira gripped it harder, refusing to relinquish it.

"Guys. Stop. All that flowery shit...it's not gonna work when he's got a right to wanna feel this way, but has to do somethin' different."

_A right? Does Ryuji understand?_

Akira took a single, shuddering breath, forcing his eyes to meet Ryuji's. Ryuji nodded, once, then stared down at the crumpled mob leader, his eyes hard.

"Listen. Joker, please listen man. Me too. I...I wanna kick his fucking face in too. For what he did. But I can't. We can't, because it's not just him. He's like that...." Ryuji's mouth twisted in an uncertain frown as he searched for words. "....that lizard story. With the heads that keep growing back."

"The hydra." Makoto nodded, seeming to understand what he was getting at.

"Yeah okay, hydra, whatever! My point is, he dies here, and it's just cutting off one head, right? The mob is a whole organization. If he doesn't confess, and turn in his buddies, then..."

"It could simply reform itself around a new leader." Finally, Akira lowered his knife, and his chin, his body shaking with frustration.

"That's right. Because he's nothing special." At that, Ryuji did kick Kaneshiro, steel-toed boots slamming into his gut to earn a satisfying groan of pain.

Makoto stepped back, waving the rest of the Thieves to do the same. "If you really have to....I don't know that we could truly stop you. But I need to know that you've thought about it. That line. The line between justice and revenge. That's all."

Akira stared down at his knife. It shook in his hand, his body desperate for the satisfaction of vengeance, for the sensation of wrenching it through that man's disgusting throat. But...

_Are they right? If I kill him now...am I just condemning Tokyo to the same life, under a new 'ruler'?_

"Damn it....damn it, don't I...don't I **deserve**..." His arm hung limply at his side for a full minute as he stared down at the man, struggling between his desire for vengeance and his need to genuinely end this. Finally, he sheathed his knife.

"Fine. Fuck off to your true self." His voice hollow, his blindfold hanging loosely around his neck, he turned to the Thieves with forced, gritty calm. "Get the treasure, and we'll leave. I'll give you what you want."

"Joker..."

Slowly, their eyes continually darting back to Akira and his conquered foe, the group gathered handfuls of stolen possessions into their bags.

Kaneshiro shimmered, his shadowy form beginning to dissipate.

_I've lost my only chance, and I already regret it. I should be....he should be...._

Just before vanishing, Kaneshiro offered him one last bitter smile. "You know...you might just have the brutality necessary to make it in this world after all. Just like that other one, why not take advantage of all that power?"

"Other one?" Akira asked in a tone of level disinterest. What was there to care about now? It was over, and he'd lost while winning.

"The one in the black mask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, welcome Hyde, Arsene's warped second awakening. I have to wonder if any of you saw him/his name coming, since I did drop a few heavy hints!
> 
> In the story, Hyde retains all of Jekyll's intelligence, skills, and memories, and has enough of an instinct for self preservation/wanting to meet his goals to be able to rein himself in & behave himself when necessary. He's the "self' that Jekyll becomes addicted to allowing to emerge because he allows him to freely act out the things he knows he'd never be able to do in his usual character, while keeping his own hands clean. 
> 
> Also Piggytron was way too lame and....bizarrely cutesy, so I hope my version of the final boss battle worked as a replacement.
> 
> And yup, Akira got to borrow murdery revenge baby Ken's evoker 😭


End file.
